


His Savior

by Chainlocker



Series: May Time Never Release Us [1]
Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Alina just kind of dies over and over until she eventually gets it right, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Femdom, Fix-It of Sorts, I don't entirely like Mal sorry mdudes, I dunno how graphic the violence is gonna be but it's there, I'm sorry this is gonna be angsty, IT BEGINS, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Nikolai is BABY okay, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Please Don't Hate Me, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Time Loop, also this might turn into an ot3 fic whoops, as of putting the first chapter out its already 24 thousand words long, despite that, eeeeehehehehehe, he redeemed himself in the last book but I still find him to be a meh character, if there is noncon there's gonna be ample warning in the notes I promise, it's weird going from where I am in chapter 11 back to chapter 6, lost of character death, not entirely anyway whoops, oops uhm I guess it's a selective eventual happy ending, so much has happened like goddamn, tags will be updated as I go along rip, this is gonna be one hell of a long fic, we're gonna get him a happy ending, yall I'm dying to get chapters out but I know I'll regret if I mass post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 75,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21570049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chainlocker/pseuds/Chainlocker
Summary: Alina had been ready to pass on to wherever a soul went after death. She had lived through so much, seen the death of so many, and she was ready to let go.Until the universe told her otherwise.Now, she has to find a way to savehimwith no clue as to whoheis.~~~Aka, the sorta fix-it fic that I wanted to write because the ending of Ruin and Rising literally broke my heart and I will actually cry. Rating will probably go up throughout the story.
Relationships: Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov, Zoya Nazyalensky/Mal Oretsev
Series: May Time Never Release Us [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592296
Comments: 59
Kudos: 247





	1. So Much for a Second Chance

Alina closed her eyes, surrounded by the children that she had cared for and loved after everything - she'd seen more than a few be brought away from Keramzin to become Grisha, though now it was their own choice to leave.

Her end was near - that she knew. Thirty years after the person she used to be had disappeared into Ravkan myth. Hers was an early death among most people, but the loss of her summoning had taken a toll on her that no otkazat’sya would ever understand. Not even her beloved Mal, her sweetheart through all of his flaws.

He held her hand now, still healthy even with the grey in his hair. She whispered a last admittance of love to him, feeling the way her lungs deflated with a gentle forcefulness, the way they seemed to tell her,  _ “Enough. It is time for rest.” _

And so this would be the life and death of Alina Starkov.

_ You were meant to save him. _

~~~

And yet when things went still and her eyes fluttered open, thinking of an afterlife, of seeing Mal again - it was to see the roof of a tent. Dimly remembered, from a lifetime ago.

A cheerful voice called to her, before a familiar face popped into view. Alina was frozen, staring up at a friend she hadn't seen since she saw him in the claws of the volcra.

"C'mon Alina, you're going to be late for breakfast if you don't get a move on!"

"Alexei?" Her voice was a rough croak, as she shakily pushed herself up to look at him better, take stock of their surroundings. The military tent that she had shared with the other cartographer's assistants. It seemed so strange to be back here after so long, to feel just as sickly as she always had, yet without the weight of so many years of age upon her.

"Alina?" Alexei sounded more concerned now. "Why are you crying?"

Everything couldn't have been a dream. It couldn't have been. The Darkling, Baghra, Mal, Nikolai. All the horrors she had witnessed, all the cruelty brought down upon her and the innocent hands that tried so hard to help her. She shoved herself to her feet, wiping away the tears on her cheeks.

"Nothing. Just a nightmare." Unless this was her hell, a reminder of all the innocent lives that she had seen the end to.

Maybe she was destined to forever watch the people she cared about be ripped apart on the Fold while her light sustained her, infinitely.

Alexei nodded though, and waved a hand. "Alright. Come on though, seriously. Breakfast is going to end soon."

Alina followed him through the flap of their tent, into the milling crowd of military personnel. She saw flashes of old, half familiar faces and her heart clenched. So many had died in just this first day, the first day that she had found her powers. Alexei, Eva, half of the company torn apart by volcra. Then the guards on the Vy when the Darkling's carriage had been attacked, when she first saw the power that he commanded.

They weren't in Kribirsk yet, not in sight of the Fold and the black tent of Grisha where she had once felt so out of place. She wondered what it would be like now, if she would still recognize Sergei who had been so afraid when she had seen him torn to pieces by shadow soldiers. Or Zoya, sharp as a whip and so loyal it hurt.

Marie, she thought with a sick lurch. Pretty brown curls and a bright smile, whole and healthy instead of torn apart by claws. Fedyor, trustworthy until the end. She had seen so much death, the ends of so many lives that she had first touched here on the edge of the Darkling's creation.

And her heart shattered as none other than Mal trotted out of the crowd, his eyes young and glimmering with mischief and his face free of any mar, free of the scar that had changed him so drastically. Behind him Mikhael and Dubrov trailed, chatting aimlessly, carefree despite their coming journey. It would happen tomorrow, she knew in her gut.

Alexei tugged on her arm and she followed without complaint.

The day passed in a blur. Mal was distracted with Ruby and other pretty girls, and though jealousy sat heavy in her stomach despite the knowledge that Mal had come to love her, Alina found herself rather amused. This Mal was so innocent, with his messy hair and bright eyes and wide smile sure to lure anyone in.

"You're staring again," Alexei teased, walking alongside her. "Have you finally given up on not trying to moon over him?"

"No," she said simply. "Just thinking."

"Oh? About what? Trying to get into his-"

"Alexei, so help me if you finish that sentence I will put worms into your soup."

He pouted a little but shrugged and leaned away again. "Alright, alright, feel free to deny it. But I know what you're thinking Starkov, just remember that." He gave a teasingly threatening edge to his voice and she laughed.

So innocent. So pure she could be, before. She'd never been prone to laughter even before everything, and definitely not after. But if she was here again, then maybe she could change things.

Eventually the Fold came into view. This time she heard the rattle of carriages, and shuffled into the crowd in time to avoid almost being trampled. She still hasn't seen much more than glances of Mal, though he was never far. Still, she saw Zoya hanging out of the window of the carriage, her eyes drifting to who she knew was Mal in the crowd. Then she heard the whoops of amusement from Mikhael, and she smiled. And then wondered what would have happened between Mal and Zoya, if she hadn't been there to interfere.

Maybe he would have a different happy ending. One that didn't include so much death.

And maybe she would become Queen, with a too-clever fox beside her, and she would love him the way he had deserved after everything. She wanted to know if she could, if she had ever learned enough in her life to rule. Who knew, maybe running an orphanage and ruling a country wouldn't be so different.

Time seemed to slip through her fingers, and too soon she was falling asleep in her tent at Kribirsk, with the promise of the Fold in the morning. Unless she could save them, unless the lives that ended here and marked the beginning of her nightmare years could be spared. She remembered the flash she had seen of Alexei before the volcra had carried him off and shivered. Such a distant memory.

Sleep did not come easily. Not until she rolled over, summoning a dim glow in her palm under the blanket and smiled. It had been so long since she had felt that warm glow, felt the quiver of her summoning as a wash of pleasure. It came easy to her now, nothing like it had been the last time she had been here.

Her heart lightened. She would save them.

And in the morning, her heart still felt as if it was going to beat out of her chest. At some point she would have to face the Darkling again. She would have to see his face and remember the way it twisted, desperate, asking her to make sure there was nothing left of him so others couldn't desecrate his body, the perfect thing it had been.

Still, as she ate her breakfast she found herself oddly looking forward to seeing him again. To seeing Baghra, to seeing Fedyor and Marie and even Zoya, and all the others she had lost.

Loading onto the skiffs was just as nerve wracking as it had been the first time, though as she stepped onto it a familiar hand fell onto his shoulder.

"Alina, there you are. Have you been avoiding me?" Mal smiled at her and she grinned back, having to resist the temptation to lean into him.

"I should be asking you the same thing. Or have you just been too entranced with Zoya to bother seeking me out?" Alina watched as he blushed slightly, his mouth opening for a moment before snapping shut as he cleared his throat.

"How… how do you know her name?"

"Heard some of the other men talking about her." She shrugged and smiled. "I suppose you enjoyed your time with her?"

Mal flushed a bit more and gave her a sheepish grin. "Well… yeah."

A younger Alina would have been bitter. A younger Alina would never have brought it up, never wanted to acknowledge that Mal was wanted, that Mal wanted the pretty girls that fawned over him. But she had lived through so much already, and as much as she loved Mal with all of her heart and every fibre of her being, she wanted him to go down a different path.

They stood in silence as the Squallers raised their hands, filling the sails of the sand skiffs.

"We're going to make it," Alina said quietly as silence descended over the entirety of the skiffs.

Mal chuckled, but didn't respond. She could feel his nervousness, but she was confident. Even if she wasn't strong enough on her own, she had an amplifier beside her that was more powerful than anyone could imagine.

The darkness of the Fold blanketed them.

They slid along in silence, tense and thick with fear. No one felt good about this, as they should. No one was safe like this.

She reached for her light, taking a deep breath as she heard the first wing beats of the volcra.

And she found something like a wall in her way. She blinked, terror rising up in her throat as she reached for Mal's hand. She had forgotten how weak she was without her amplifiers, how weak she was before the months of training at Os Alta.

But the moment her fingers brushed his, there was a whoosh of movement and she heard his scream break the air.

Her heart shattered. The first blood drawn, and it had to be him.

A scream built in her throat as Inferni fire flashed in the dark, seeing him suspended by volcra claws.

And then burning pain ripped through her, embedded in her chest as leathery wings wrapped around herself as well.

And then light poured out of her, even as she knew it was too late.

So much for a second chance.

_ Save him. You must. _

_ Save who?  _ She wondered, floating at the edge of something bright, formless herself. There was no answer.

~~~

And then her eyes were blinking open. This time she was on her side, but she knew where she was. Right back where she had started.

This time it was a week before they got to Kribirsk.

And this time she went straight to the Darkling's tent.

She ignored the glances thrown her way, the whispers left in her wake. Not even dark out and this scrawny scrap of a girl was apparently intending to talk to some Grisha. Foolish.

When she came to the tent the oprichniki outside crossed their rifles over the entrance.

"Only Grisha are allowed without invitation."

"Good thing I'm Grisha then," Alina said flatly, ignoring the guard's disbelieving looks. Grisha were beautiful, healthy, nothing like her. So she rolled her eyes and spread her hands, shooting quick beams of sunlight into their eyes before ducking into the tent.

Inside was just as lavish as she remembered, something she guiltily missed. Pillows and low tables shoved into nooks and crannies - already she was seeing familiar faces, tears welling up in her eyes. They turned up to see her, eyebrows raised and eyes guarded. A lone, scrawny soldier, unarmed and walking through the Grisha tent with such intent? Was what she doing, walking for the Darkling's area so calmly?

And yet no one actually stopped her. An old part of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Nikolai murmured to her.  _ Look like you know what you're doing and people won't question you. _

So she strode through the tent until she reached the curtained-off area of blackness that was the Darkling's personal chambers in this place. And then she barely hesitated before nudging the curtains aside, without announcement, and stepping inside.

There she saw him, lounging on a pile of pillows with a book in had, his hair messy yet still so perfect. She thought she would never see him again, after plunging a blade into his chest. He looked up with narrowed eyes, his lips parted in a question that was most definitely going to be something along the lines of "what are you doing here" before she beat him to it.

"Aleksander," she breathed.

He blinked. No registration in his eyes - he likely thought she was talking about a fellow soldier, had walked into here to fight him. "Why are you in here?"

Alina took a deep breath and spread her hands. "Because I have something you want."

"And what would that be?"

She drew sunlight into the palms of her hands, seeing the way he lurched upright and smoothly came to his feet, stepping closer until he could get a good look at her. His grey eyes inspected her closely, looking for subterfuge or less, tricks of the light that she might somehow be pulling.

"What is your name?"

"Alina."

He hummed quietly, eyes calculating. "Alina… where have you been hiding?"

"Keramzin," she answered automatically. "That's where I grew up."

"The orphanage? How interesting. We send Grisha testers there every time there's new children."

"I was a mischievous child," she murmured. "I hid every time they came."

The Darkling barked a laugh. "How amusing… well, Alina. I'm going to have to send you to Os Alta."

"Only if you stop this crossing," she murmured.

He raised an eyebrow. "That's a very big request."

"Somewhere in this group of soldiers is one of Morozova's amplifiers." It was a desperate gamble, but one that could save dozens of lives. And the look of shock that fluttered over his features was worth it.

"How do you know about that?" His voice was a low hiss, his eyes blazing with a sudden, unreadable emotion.

And suddenly she was hit with the realization. Not a realization though - more like a memory of one.

Alina raised her hand, brushing her fingertips across his cheek.  _ I had a taste for you once. _ She could feel the connection between them open, she could feel the wonder and the fear and the anger burning through him before he felt what she sent in return.

A simple, yet utterly complex sort of love. And hate. An adoration built on a sameness that they had once lost, a need for each other.

She saw his eyes open wide in shock once again, wonder far too innocent for his black heart taking over their connection. He couldn’t hide from her, not like this.

“I will not take the amplifiers,” she murmured. Even if she craved the power of them again, she wouldn’t. The stag, the sea whip, the love that she had almost sacrificed. “But if you have any wish to right the wrongs that you made all those years ago, to close the Fold, I will learn how. No matter how long it takes.”

And he jerked away, again that guard against her slamming shut. “How? Where did you learn of Morozova’s amplifiers? Who here is it?”

“I will not tell you. And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you how I know.”

“Tell me,” he growled. “Or I’ll send you to Os Alta in chains.”

“You will not.”

The Darkling glared at her, then paused. “How did you know-”

“Aleksander.” Alina sighed. “A common name. But you gave me the name once, and I would be a fool to forget something like that given by someone who refuses to go by anything more than a title anymore.”

“Who are you?” His voice was strong, but in his eyes there was an odd sort of horror - confusion, desperation, a loss of control. A question that held so much weight, a question of not just who she was, but what she was. How she had such knowledge.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Tell me.”

“I think I was meant to save you, Aleksander Morozova. Even if I don’t understand it myself.”

“I grow tired of your mind games,” even if she could see the panic in his eyes. “Be frank with me.”

Alina smiled placidly. “I lived a life before this. I knew you, I knew your sins and the weight of your years. I lost so many friends to your cruelty, and in the end you lost your life to my own hand. But then I died after living a peaceful life, and the universe now thinks it appropriate for me to either live an eternity being sent back to fix all my mistakes… or I have to save you. So this is either my hell, or a second chance. Third, if I take into account…” She shook her head with a grimace, trying to shake off the recent memory of being taken up by a volcra’s claws.

And the Darkling simply stared at her, eyes hard and calculating once more. “How?”

“I don’t know. Divine guidance, the universe simply wanting to play one giant prank on me? Hell, maybe the ghost of your mother has enough power that she reached through the fabric of reality to flick me back in time. She’s spiteful enough for that, I think.”

“Possibly,” he said, though there was a faint smile curving his lips. “But you still haven’t told me who is Morozova’s amplifier.”

“And I will not.” Alina crossed her arms over her chest, a challenge. “Tomorrow, the entirety of the skiffs that are going across will fall. You will lose precious Grisha, and one of the most powerful amplifiers that the world has ever seen. Unless you call it off.”

He stared at her, his face carefully blank. She was amazed by how easily she could read him, after a year of having him tethered to her. Because she could still see the calculation in his eyes, the almost nervous tick in the twitch of his clenched jaw.

“Fine.”

“I knew you would see things my way,” Alina said with a smile. “Now, I do in fact wish to head for Os Alta - I am weaker than I remember, and I do think that I could use some help from Baghra. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the Little Palace. But I have people to talk to before I go, and if I could get a properly fitted kefta to leave in this time, that would be nice.”

“Alina.”

“Yes?”

“How did you die?”

Her expression shifted into something sad. “I died on the Fold,” she murmured. “When I took the life of my first love.”

Let him take it as he may. She turned and walked back out of the space of his, seeing the faces peering back at her. Curious, mostly. But there were a few expressions of fear, of resentment. A few people even looked impressed.

She strode quickly out of the tent, back through the entrance guarded by the Darkling’s personal guard.

And she went to find Mal.

She found him throwing dice with Mikhael and Dubrov, a couple other men in his tracking group that hung around him that she had long forgotten the names to.

“Mal,” she called. “I need to talk to you.”

The two of them hadn’t been so distant this time around - she had been next to him when the carriage passed, when Zoya stared at him with her black hair whirling around her face like a picture of perfection.

He got up with a smile, grabbing a handful of coins that was apparently his, and trotted over to her. “What’s up?”

Alina stared up to his face, taking in the beauty that was Malyen. “I’m leaving for Os Alta tomorrow.”

It looked like he choked on his own tongue, his eyes growing comically wide as he opened his mouth silently for several moments. “Why?”

“You’ll find out in a little bit,” she said with a smile. “But Mal, promise me something.”

“What is it?” He stared down at her, blue eyes turning troubled.

She reached up, brushing her hand over his cheek. “Promise me that you’ll never track for the Darkling. You mustn’t, not ever.”

“Why that? What if it’s demanded of me?”

“Then you do whatever you need to do to keep yourself safe, but until then promise me you won’t.”

“Alina…” His hand closed over hers. “What’s happening?”

She smiled back, closing her eyes for a moment. “What needs to be done, Malyen. Will you promise me that, though? Please.”

Hesitantly, he nodded. “Alright.”

“The crossing is going to be cancelled. I made sure of it.”

“Oh? How’d you do that?”

“I asked the Darkling nicely,” she said with a light grin. “Apparently he’s rather chivalrous when it comes to scrawny, weak girls.”

Mal snorted and laughed, releasing her hand. “I don’t understand a single thing that’s been going on with you, Alina.”

“Oh well. But can you trust me still?”

“Of course,” he said. “Always.”

“Hmm, maybe I need to change that,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe if I put some fresh owl pellets in your shoes you’d think twice.”

He grimaced at her, shaking his head. “Please no. Why do you always go for putting things in my shoes?”

Alina laughed, grinning widely. Some things never changed, and one of those things would forever be her love for Malyen Oretsev. But he couldn’t know, not right now. So instead she smiled and waved, promising to drop by again before she left. And then she checked in with Alexei and the other cartographer’s assistants, with pretty Ruby who had once served so loyally with the Soldat Sol and lost her life fighting for a Saint. She played social butterfly, thinking of Nikolai and how she missed him and his scarred hands, the way he changed so well to fit everyone’s needs. She wanted to see those hazel eyes again.

But finally night began to fall, and Alina craved for light again. And she realized that she needed to leave now, when Mal wouldn’t be there to see her off. She had to leave her love behind, learn how to save a man that hadn’t yet made himself unforgivable to Alina.

So she snuck out of the Documents Tent and made her way back to the Darkling’s pavilion.

This time she bent the light given by the moon around herself, shielding herself from unwanted eyes as she made her way to the massive black tent that stood stark against the night sky. And when she stepped inside once more, she let her half-illusion fade. She saw a couple of lights on throughout the pavilion, though they were dim and flickering, giving her enough cover to slip through without being seen.

And when she stepped into the Darkling’s area she found he was asleep - or at least feigning it.

She was about to step over and shake him awake when his voice sounded in the dark, quiet to her but loud enough to hear clearly.

“I was wondering when you would come back.”

“I was about to question the fact that you were asleep.”

He turned over, his torso bare now, face half buried in his black pillow. “I sleep lightly.”

“I know.”

“You know a lot of things about me, Alina.”

“Because I was quite the apt pupil when I knew you, Aleksander.”

“Did you love me?”

She came and sat down beside where he laid. “In my own way, for a time. Until you used me, and broke my heart. Tried to turn me into your tool to use, tried to murder the people I loved.”

“And if I do that again?”

“Then I will stop you again. I will not let you turn into the man that tried to make the world crash down around us.”

His lips pursed together, and gently he reached out. “How did you die, Alina?”

“I told you.” She moved her hand away. He didn’t need to know of her grief.

“You said that you killed the one you loved. I don’t think that I was that one.”

“You could have been.”  _ I had a taste for you once. _

“But I wasn’t.”

“I had to make sacrifices. I brought the three amplifiers together, and it tore my light from me. It gave the otkazat’sya around us the power to destroy the Fold, and when you realized what had happened to me, you…” Went mad. Nearly destroyed the hope they had brought.

“What?”

“You used merzost. If I hadn’t killed you, it would have destroyed Ravka.” Dangerous, Alina. Don’t tell him too much.

“Merzost,” he breathed.

She pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him onto his back as she leaned over him, eyes blazing. “You will not use it. I will not let you corrupt yourself like that.” She felt the wavering hope, the hunger for power thrumming through him. And she pressed back with her anger, her grief, the remembered despair that had ruined her for so long.

“How will you stop me, Sun Summoner?” He growled back at her, grabbing her wrist. “You said it yourself, you are weak.”

“Because, you only learned to use it because of me,” she spat. “Because I tried to kill you time and time again, and it only made you stronger.”

At that, he faltered. “How?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you not know?” He sat up, forcing her back as he maintained his grip on her wrist.

“Even if I did, do you think I would tell you?” She weakly smacked his chest with her free hand, hating how frail she felt. “I was forced to run from you, every time. Every time you caught me, more of my friends died, more of them sacrificed their lives to get me away, and you got stronger. I don’t know how.”

Suddenly she felt him drawing her power out of her, to the surface, and she clenched an invisible hand around it. And though she glowed, her skin alight with a gentle warmth, it wasn’t the light show that the Darkling wanted from her.

“Why should I ever trust you, if you tried so hard to be rid of me before?”

“Because, you’re not quite irredeemable yet. You’re not the man that I hated.” She jerked her arm back, or tried to, and only ended up bringing herself closer to him. “You’re almost the one that I loved, though I still don’t know if I loved you or the facade that you used to make me care.”

He stared at her for several moments before rather suddenly releasing her, the glow on her skin receding grudgingly. “What did you come here for, Alina,” he said flatly.

“I want to leave. Right now. Only you know of the Sun Summoner, but I’d rather get out of here and to the safety of Os Alta before word gets out. I need to start training again.”

The Darkling nodded slowly. “Alright.” And he got up, sliding from the sheets with an unnatural grace, unfolding a shirt to put on and grabbing up his kefta.

And then out of the tent they went, to the oprichniki. He woke a few, ordering them along, barely glancing at her as they moved through the camp. It was a quiet affair, the Darkling apparently not a stranger to leaving suddenly in the night. And yet he was the one to help her into his black carriage, a hand offered for her to take as it rocked with her weight.

“Give me Sergei, and Fedyor,” she said. “Follow in the morning, if you’re able to, once the crossing is called off. I won’t need anyone else.”

“Sergei is at the Little Palace,” the Darkling said with a raised eyebrow.

Alina cursed under her breath. It had been so many years, she’d forgotten that it was Ivan that had been with her. “Then just Fedyor. He’s loyal.”

“To who?” He looked rather unimpressed.

“To Ravka,” she said coldly, stepping into the carriage and settling in. The door closed behind her and she sighed, waiting in the dark for no more than ten minutes before it opened again and Fedyor and Ivan both climbed in.

She glared at Ivan, who glared back tiredly. The last time she’d seen him so close was on Sturmhond’s ship, his heart collapsed by Tolya in a battle between the two Heartrenders. She hadn’t missed him.

But Fedyor… seeing him again made her heart beat hard in her chest, remembering the way he’d screamed as the nichevo’ya carried him away.

“Hello,” she forced out.

“Who are you?” Ivan glared a bit harder and she rolled her eyes. “I hope there’s a good reason that I was woken up to escort a hissy like you to Os Alta.”

“I suggest that you watch your tongue,” she snapped. Saints, she was already tired of him.

“The Darkling wanted us to be with her on her way, Ivan. I doubt she’s just anyone.” Fedyor raised an eyebrow at the temperamental Heartrender.

Ivan simply huffed and sat back in his seat. “Sure.”

“I’m Alina,” she said with a small, smug smile.

“Fedyor, and grumpy guy is Ivan. Don’t worry about him.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Her comment earned her a glare, and beside him Fedyor seemed just about ready to giggle himself out of his seat before he coughed and looked out the window of the carriage.

“Though I am curious, why are you so important to the Darkling?” His voice was easy, a little calming.

She yawned and stretched out on the carriage bench. “I’ll show you in the morning. I want to sleep right now.”

Both Heartrenders stared at her getting so comfortable in the Darkling’s personal carriage, but neither of them said anything. But before her eyes closed, she saw Fedyor nod and settle against the wall.


	2. Secrets Told, Frustrations Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina can't keep things to herself. Memories of the Little Palace haunt her through the hallways, and she needs the little amount of relief that she can get.

Her arrival at Os Alta was a quiet thing. No guards, no rush to get her to her rooms, no bone-deep exhaustion after days after days of going on horseback.

She was nearly overtaken with tears as she saw the Little Palace for the first time, though. The last time she had seen the closest thing that had been home to her, it had been broken, crawling with shadows, with giant mirrors shattered and useless. It had been the site of horrid things, of blood and death, fire and destruction. But it hadn’t seen any of that, not yet. And if she could help it, it would never see anything like that this time around.

But she didn’t see Genya this time, not yet. There was no expectation to see the King when the existence of a Sun Summoner hadn't been broadcasted by the attack on the Fold. Only the Darkling, Ivan, and Fedyor knew what she was as of yet, and her two Heartrenders trailed her around the palace grounds constantly. She missed her other pair of Heartrenders, the ones with Shu blood in them, the ones that had once called her a Saint.

It was a false echo of the friends she had made.

But now, after finding her room and settling herself into it, she decided to take the plunge herself. The Darkling would likely be getting to Os Alta soon, and she had too many secrets swirling around in her head.

So she went to Baghra, her heart clenching like Ivan was closing his fist around it. It hurt to step in through the door, hear the familiar bark of “close the door, you’re letting all the warm air out!”

But she managed, and as Baghra turned she nearly burst into tears to see her eyes again. To see the way the ancient woman seemed whole again.

“What are you doing here, girl?”

“I came to see you, Baghra.”

“Who are you, then?”

“My name is Alina.”

“I can see you want to say something. Spit it out already.”

She laughed, tears in her eyes. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

Baghra narrowed her eyes. “What are you on about, girl? I’ve never seen you in my life.”

“Not in yours, no,” Alina whispered. “Baghra, I think I’m in hell.”

“As much as living can seem like that, I doubt it.”

“Then I have broken the universe.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m here about your son.”

“I don’t have a son.”

“You do,” she murmured. “The Darkling. I know. His name is Aleksander, you’re the daughter of Morozova, Sankta Ilya.”

At that, Baghra went silent. When Alina looked again she was gazing at her intently. “Go on then, tell your story. I have enough time to waste.”

Alina nodded, moving to sit down. Baghra followed suit, cautious, but sat across from her and listened, and watched. She told the story, the complete story that she had lived through. The nightmares that she had seen, had suffered from for years. The way it began, the way Baghra had helped her escape and subsequently had lost her sight to the Darkling. The way he had bound the stag to her, using her to remain safe as he expanded the Fold into Ravka’s own land before he tried to murder Mal. The way she had come so close to killing him, over and over again, the way he only became more powerful with each try. How, eventually, Baghra herself had sacrificed her life in a bid to stop the Darkling from getting to her.

There was a long pause, there. Alina closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she remembered that day. When Baghra had dropped over the edge. When the Spinning Wheel became the site of a massacre, when Nikolai had been turned into a monster, struggling from the inside for control.

But she left out Mal, the fact that he was an amplifier as well. She didn’t know whether or not the Darkling could have a way to get into his mother’s head the way he had gotten into hers. She couldn’t take that chance.

When she was done with everything, the cabin was silent but for the crackling of the fire. Part of Alina was waiting for Baghra to kick her out and call her mad. Maybe that entire life had in fact just been a nightmare, something to awaken her powers and give her a reason to release the sun among the world.

“Why tell me all this?”

Alina gave a wry smile. “Because, I honestly just needed someone to tell. The Darkling knows some of it, but I haven’t exactly told him anything important. If I carried all of that with me, I fear that I would have gone insane in no time.”

“So you think if you die again without changing my son for the better, you get recycled, and you have to try again.”

“As far as I know, yes.” She nodded, closing her eyes. “I’ve already died again, once. I went onto the Fold during the crossing and I couldn’t summon my light well enough, and I was taken by the volcra.”

“Unfortunate.”

Alina found herself snorting with laughter. “You say it as if it was nothing more than if I had scraped my knee.”

“Well, if you really cannot die, it doesn’t seem like much more than that.”

“It was still quite traumatic. I haven’t gone a night without waking up from nightmares.”

“From your story, it seems like that’s a common occurrence.”

Alina sighed at the woman. “Thank you for your empathy, Baghra. I’ve sorely missed it.”

“It seems you have. Now-”

The door opened rather suddenly, and Alina looked over her shoulder to see the Darkling glaring at the two of them with stormy eyes.

“I would have thought you’d wait for me somewhere a bit more public, Alina,” he said, rather annoyed.

And all Alina did was smile pleasantly. “I wanted to say hi to the ones that will be training me. Get to know them. Is that such a crime?”

He glanced at his mother, who stared back with an expression that would never give anything away. Baghra had been keeping secrets for much longer than the Darkling, and kept some secrets from him as well. He would never see past her.

“Come with me. The King will be expecting you soon. Have you been summoning?”

“Not much.” She raised her hands and focused, and her palms flooded the hut with warm light, driving back the shadows. “But I can manage a show for the King.”

He nodded, waving her along. “I will talk to you later, Baghra,” he promised with a dark look cast her way.

“And I’ll be here. Now shoo, and don’t keep the door open for too long.”

Alina smiled idly on her way out, following just a step behind the Darkling. Once they were outside and the door safely closed to contain the wrath of the woman, he turned to glance at her.

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing more than I told you. I believe the two of you are the best secret keepers around, or that’s what I would hope after so many years.” She continued walking as he slowed, and soon she was leading the way through the grounds and to the Little Palace, stopping at her door.

“I’ll send up some clothes for you to wear.”

“I’ll be waiting. Send Genya up, I’ve missed her dearly.”

He glared at her in that way of his, where he tried so hard to mask the anger dancing in his eyes.

“Did I really harden you so much?” She mused, almost to herself as she touched her fingertips to his cheek. “You’ve no need to fear me, Aleksander. Only if you give me a reason to tear you down.”

“Why did I give you my name?” He almost leaned into her hand, even as his eyes stayed on hers. “Did I really trust you that much?”

“No. I don’t think you ever trusted me.” She let herself cup his face in one hand, thumb brushing over his cheek. “But I think you almost loved me. Certainly you wanted me, even if you hated yourself for it. You never did learn that it’s alright to want.”

He hummed quietly before leaning away from her, breaking their connection. “How could I?”

“‘Wanting makes us weak,’” she said it at the same time he did, staring into his eyes with an inspection of her own.

“You never learned that it’s alright to be human. You might be hundreds of years old, but you were taught to be more than the rest of us. And you lost yourself completely somewhere along the way.”

“Then are you supposed to teach me, Alina?” His lips pulled up into something like a snarl.

She smiled at him then, a tired expression built on all the years spent wondering after him, after how her life could have gone. “If I have to. I could make you into a better man.”

The two of them kept eye contact for a few moments before the Darkling gave a quick bow and turned on his heel, heading back towards the stairs. Alina watched him disappear on his way and shook her head, turning into her room.

Soon enough Genya was hurrying through the door, as perfect and radiant as she had ever been. Scarless, except for the things on the inside that she kept perfectly hidden.

She was as rough with Alina as she had been the first time, bossing her around until Alina had been washed and scrubbed and dressed in a clean First Army uniform. Then she sat down with her kit of gold and rose petals and pretty things, fixing up Alina’s appearance, and she nearly cried to see Genya like this again.

“You look like you really need a good night’s sleep,” she grumbled as she tried to fix up the dark bags under her eyes.

“Or a dozen,” Alina said in return, cracking a smile. “Your name is Genya, right?”

She nodded shortly, tossing her hair out of her face. “I guess someone told you about me? I shouldn’t be surprised, I’m a rather popular face around the kitchens,” she said with a wink.

“I’m sure. You’re beautiful. Probably a real charmer as well,” she said with a giggle, until Genya prodded her to go still again so that she could work.

“Of course I am. What kind of beauty would I be if I didn’t know how to put it to use?”

Alina smiled. She knew exactly how Genya put that beauty to work, slowly poisoning the King for so long with a concoction of her own creation. Something between a Corporalki and a Fabrikator. The old man deserved it, for the torture that Genya had gone through by his hand. Maybe someday she would tell Genya her story, the part she had played in the Darkling’s death and the friends she had made along the way.

Maybe she would tell her that David wasn’t as much of a lost cause as she thought.

But soon enough Genya was departing, back to the Queen’s side to continue in her servitude. And Alina was being led towards the throne room, and she had to remember to take the stance of a young girl, an unexpected Grisha with the power to possibly destroy the Fold.

The Darkling met her there, eyes wandering over her form as he took in the First Army uniform with a sneer that was only barely hidden from the rest of the room. She still didn't understand how he had hated the otkazat’sya, murdered them without a care even when he knew how she hated him for it. But despite his look, he led her hand to his arm before the doors to the throne opened before them, and together they walked into the company of the rulers of Ravka.

Alina had never gotten to see Nikolai sit on his throne, the one that he had worked so desperately for.

“This is her? How very plain,” the King said.

“Alina Starkov, moi tsar,” the Darkling said stiffly. “The newly discovered Sun Summoner.”

“How did you find her?”

“She was assaulted by some of the men in her company. It seems that her summoning made an appearance so that she could defend herself.” A smooth, if rather bold lie.

“Is that so?” The King turned his gaze towards her, eyes narrowed and his weak jaw working in thought. “Show me.”

Alina turned her gaze towards the Darkling, nodding to him. He looked at her curiously, but raised his hands and brought forth shadows, soon blanketing the room in darkness. And then she summoned the sunlight that she knew was just outside the window, feeling a slight bit of strain on herself before a dome of light sheltered herself and the Darkling in a warm glow. It wasn’t the power that she remembered, not the power that sliced mountaintops and nearly blew her apart in the moment before her power was taken from her and spread among the otkazat’sya at the battle.

But it was hers, a pure thing that the Darkling had never had a hand in. And weak as it was, she felt radiant.

She pushed herself, and the light burst outwards in a wave of warmth as the shadows dispersed, more than she thought she would be able to accomplish on her own. The King looked immensely pleased, clapping with wide eyes as he stared at her.

“Come here, girl, come here,” he said, waving her forward.

And unfortunately, Alina couldn’t avoid the way he grabbed her hand, pressing a wet kiss to it. She simply smiled at him and stepped away politely when she felt she had been close to him for long enough.

“Amazing! And you think you’ll be able to close the Fold with that?” He grinned at Alina, at the Darkling behind her.

“Eventually, moi tsar,” Alina said with a small bow. “I need more training, but hopefully I would be able to close it within a year or two. I am still weak as of yet.”

“Weak? Yet you are able to dispel even the Darkling’s shadows already! I’m sure you will progress quickly, Alina.”

The Darkling nodded, stepping up behind her. “I will oversee her training personally, your majesty.”

“Good, good. Now, don’t let us keep you, I’m sure you have duties to attend to.” The King waved them off with a smile, his eyes lingering on Alina with a lust that she was rather familiar with. A lust for power, for more.

Had he looked at her like that the first time, too? Or was she just more observant now, after she had learned so much in her time in the court? Once they got out of the throne room, she followed behind the Darkling, forcing her posture into something more proper.

“You don’t actually want to train me personally, do you?”

“I would think it wise for you to not assume what I want.”

A few people glanced at the two of them as they passed, but Alina gave them no mind at the moment. It would be good for them to see someone annoying the Darkling without being ruined on the spot.

“And yet that’s the only choice I have, seeing as I don’t think you’ll actually tell me what you want.”

He let out a puff of breath, the only indication she could see from behind him that he was in fact rather peeved with her. He waited until they were in a more deserted hallway before speaking again. “How old are you, Alina?”

“About seventeen.”

“And in all?”

“About fifty three.”

He whirled around, eyes fixated on her. “Fifty three years and yet you seem to be as childish as an eight year old not getting enough attention from their parents.”

“I’m sure we both have some experience with that,” she said cooly.

The Darkling snarled and suddenly he was in her space, invadingly close. “You don’t know what experience I have, Alina.”

But she stood strong, staring back at him the way she had learned to take on the more spirited children that had thought to fight against her in the orphanage. “Not everything, no. But you could tell me.”

“And let you try to take control of me? I don’t think so.”

“You were the only one that ever tried to take control of either of us. It’s how you became my villain.”

“I’ve never done anything but try to help this country.”

“What do you fear?” Alina leaned closer, letting her breath wash over his cheeks, barely ruffling the ends of his hair. “Why is the thought of opening up so terrifying to you? As you drilled into my head for so long before, we are the same. We are destined to live forever, to see the end of all things together. Maybe, this time, we can learn to love. But only if you let go of your pride and allow me to make you a better man.”

The Darkling took hold of her hand, his breath surprisingly shallow. But he did no more than that, the connection between them opening like a yawning cavern of emptiness. She understood, she had seen that feeling of absolute nothingness before, when he had realized that he was alone in the world. When she had lost her power, and his mother had died to stop him. The grief of it, the loss, the utter pain of knowing that no one would ever be with him. The want to self-destruct and end it all, like Baghra had told her once.

“Call it,” she whispered. “My light.”

And it came roaring out of her, a blinding wave of light and heat that immediately made her sweat. But the feeling of it was powerful, exultant, until the Darkling released her and let it fade to a glow that still stuck to her skin like sticky tree sap.

“We are powerful, but we are more together.”

He stared at her for only a few more moments before taking a step away, making a wave of frustration rise up in her. Was this the same thing that the Darkling had felt when she had spent so much time running from him, even before she knew the horrors he was capable of?

But she let him walk away, feeling suddenly lonely. No one here knew her, not the way that she knew them all. They didn’t share the experiences that Alina had gone through, no one knew of the things she had seen, the things she had done.

She wished for Nikolai to be there, the one she knew. The one with scarred hands and shadows in his eyes, the one that had wanted to love her even when she had turned to someone else, someone simpler.

She wanted the Genya she knew so well - the one with an eyepatch, with scars of her own that showed her strength. The one that had gone on to lead the Grisha, the first Tailor, the girl that had kept her company in the White Cathedral after her hair turned white and brittle. She wanted the Nadia she had known, Adrik, fearless David. She’d barely seen any of them after her death on the Fold.

After that, she had only ever had Mal to hold her through the nights when she was haunted by the scar on his chest.

She turned and made her way through to the kitchens. Hopefully Genya would be there, and she could make friends like she had before.

But she wasn’t there. So she sighed, steeling herself to return to the Little Palace. It was an oddly welcoming relief to see it, to walk through the halls to the great domed room where Grisha gathered to eat and socialize - only with the ones in their own orders though, never mixing the colors of their kefta.

She’d change that in time. It had been so good to see when friendships and bonds had begun to form, all of them becoming stronger when they worked together.

A few faces glanced up from their food, looking rather confused at her uniform. She supposed it was rather rare for First Army officers of any rank to come to the Little Palace, much less among the Grisha while they ate.

She spotted Marie and Nadia at the table and her heart clenched. Somewhere on the grounds, Adrik would be around acting as a terror to the other children going to the Grisha school. With both arms still in tact, his eyes free of the fierce determination, the fear they had held when she had come to command to the Grisha.

“What are you here for?” Sergei’s voice called out to her, unimpressed. “Did you get lost or something?”

“No, I didn’t,” Alina said simply, spreading her hands as she called the light to her again. She was reaching her limit, her body felt tired even as she felt as if she was glowing with the relief of using it again. She’d missed it so dearly.

The hall went silent for several moments, before Marie scrambled to her feet with Nadia right behind her. “Here, come sit with us!” She came closer, taking Alina’s hands with a smile.

But Sergei came up with a glower. “She deserves to sit with the Corporalki.”

“She’s a summoner, Sergei,” Marie scoffed. “She sits with us.”

As before, the Materialki stayed silent. She cast her gaze over them, trying to pick David out - if he had even bothered to come out of the workshops this time.

“I’ll sit with the Etheralki, Sergei.” She gave him a small smile. “Thank you for the offer, though.”

Marie grinned, stuck her tongue out at the Heartrender as she pulled Alina over to the table. Her and Nadia took up their places on either side of her, already chatting her ears off, and she sank into the familiarity of it. The innocence.

She talked with them about unimportant things, gossip from the palace and news from the borders where other Grisha were posted. It was mostly listening, but she had always listened more than talked. It was comfortable, to sink into the sea of blue kefta and see all the smiling faces around her.

She’d sit with the Materialki next. The Sun Summoner wouldn’t be confined to one order, no matter the fact that she was a summoner of anything.

The light was starting to dwindle, Inferni lighting the lanterns in the room when Alina finally excused herself. She felt tired from all of the summoning she had done, tired from maintaining the facade of a young girl when she had memories beyond her years swimming in her head. She felt tired of being so lonely, isolated in a sea of familiar and friendly faces. The faces of the dead haunted her in these halls, flashes of blood splattered and smeared across the walls, of precious Marie split open from neck to navel as Sergei sobbed over her broken body.

When she reached her room, she collapsed into her bed with a great heave of a sigh. Tomorrow someone would probably come by to take her measurements for her kefta, and she would have to insist on Etheralki blue instead of the black that everybody expected of her.

Unless she chose to go down another path with this life. She didn’t know if there was a limit to the amount of times she could come back, but maybe if she got something wrong, she could simply reset again. Try another way to fix this mess. Maybe she could get the Darkling’s story out of him at some point or another, find out what exactly had hurt him so badly.

She sighed, didn’t even get up out of bed as she peeled her clothes off of her body and threw them down beside the bed. Her body called for sleep, so she sank into the blackness of unconsciousness.

There was nothing else to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so technically I have like four other chapters after this that are almost ready to go out but like... uggghhh... I'm trying to control myself so I have at least a bit of a backlog and don't make yall suffer three months in silence. And also trying to give myself enough time to maybe put even a little bit of actual effort into editing stuff.
> 
> BUT I now have actual plot planned out for the future of this fic past what I've already written, but it's also like. Three different potential plotlines. So... if you guys have stuff that you want to see, feel free to yell about it in the comments and I'll see what I can come up with ;)
> 
> (Also wish me luck, I have Thanksgiving to deal with and then a day of Black Friday sales. I'm gonna be ruined.)


	3. Just As Much Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina grows more powerful, but there is little comfort to be had at the Little Palace. The Darkling is plotting once again, and inevitably, mistakes are made...

Her training, as she had guessed, was mostly taken care of Baghra once again. Which to be honest she was quietly grateful for, as the woman pushed her limits even harder than she had before, making her stretch the light out farther, stronger, hotter. She would help make Alina strong again, without the help of the amplifiers that she hoped Mal would never have to track down for her.

More, more, more. It became her mantra, the thing that kept her pushing forward. She would do more this time, she wouldn’t run from the Darkling and let him slaughter her friends. No more blood would be shed, no more death. She would open her power up, reach for every scrap she could, and someday she would obliterate the Fold with her own hands.

Maybe it was selfish, for her to want to keep her power so badly. But remembering the echo of emptiness she had lived with for decades after their battles, she would shiver and bring out more light to combat it. She would light up the opposite shore of the lake with light and warmth, make the water steam with concentrated beams of heat, and push herself farther until she was unsteady on her feet.

But it made her stronger, in the end.

She went for runs with the rest of the Grisha when they visited Botkin, though she didn’t dare join in on the combat lessons quite yet. She wasn’t required to, and until she was stronger she didn’t want to step in and be beaten to within an inch of her life like she had been before.

Every day that she used her power, her body became healthier. She was able to eat portions of food that everyone else was, her skin smoothed out and became as flawless as Zoya’s.

And speaking of which, this time around, she didn’t have to worry about Zoya being so nasty. She was still one of the Darkling’s favorites, flaunting around her influence like it was a particularly nice dress, but she didn’t find it necessary to take anything out on Alina. Not like she had before, broken ribs thankfully avoided.

But there was the problem of the Darkling himself. He was avoiding her, Alina was sure. She hadn’t heard so much of a whisper from him, and after all the time that they had spent with an invisible tether tying them and their emotions together, she found herself feeling rather antsy. She couldn’t get a straight answer out of any of the oprichniki about his whereabouts, and he was sneaky enough to easily slip by her if she had ever possibly run into him in the halls of the Little Palace.

So she decided to do something about it. Maybe, as her more logical side told her, it was an absolutely harebrained thing to do. But if the Darkling wanted to continue to think that she would be so easily avoided, he was wrong.

So early in the evening, she grabbed some books from the library, things on Grisha theory that had never quite managed to stick with her… and she went to the Darkling’s quarters.

Again the oprinichniki tried to stop her, but after a short lecture and an annoyed flash of light from her free hand, she stepped through the door. It was only a short pause to take in the common room that her, Mal, and the Heartrender twins had once shared. And then she was stepping through the room and into the Darkling’s personal bedroom.

The blackness of the walls were absolutely horrid for reading, even with all the lanterns lit, so Alina was left to use her own light to read as she sat on the bed and toed her boots off to wait. She studied the books, reading passages that she had once only skimmed over, finding that she had learned much of it as she had ran from the Darkling, either from other Grisha or from herself and the ways that she affected the world.

It gave her thoughts though, ideas that stemmed from things that Baghra had once told her, a lifetime ago.

_ Are we not like all things? _

Someday, she wanted to try to learn how to use the same summoning as a Squaller. She wanted to bend metal and glass like a Durast, maybe even become a Tailor if she could pin down what Genya did.

She sighed, closing her eyes for a few moments as her light faded. And then the door nearly slammed open and she jumped slightly, glancing up as the Darkling glared daggers at her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Making you stop avoiding me,” she answered.

“I have not been avoiding you, Alina. I have simply been busy.” He came closer, shutting the door behind him more quietly than he had opened it. “I trust that your training has been going well?”

“Better than I would have thought, honestly. I forgot how hard Baghra is to please, but I appreciate the effort that she puts into me.”

He paused for a moment, staring at her. “You said you knew what I had planned for you.”

“As far as I know, yes. But if I have learned anything about you, it’s that you always have a trick up your sleeve. So maybe I don’t know, not anymore. But I will soon enough, and if it’s not to my liking, I will put a stop to it.”

“So sure, Alina,” he murmured.

“I am. I did it once, I can do it again.”

“Are you sure that you want to?” He stopped beside her, at the edge of the bed, staring down at her. “From what you told me, I had killed many of your friends. Are you sure that you can see that again?”

“Can you bear being alone?” She stared up at him. He had something planned once more, something to take control of what she had thrown up into chaos in the weeks that she had come to him in Kribirsk. “No mother, no me, no one to share your eternity with. Can you bear so many lonely years stretching out into your future?”

“I’m sure I can come up with something.”

She rose up to her knees, her hands clutching into his kefta to drag him closer. “No, you can’t, Aleksander. I’ve seen the toll it takes on you.”

His hands came up to grip her wrists, a snarl on his lips until their connection opened. He didn’t find the anger he was expecting to feel there - he found a desperation, a sadness, a hope, a sliver of worry flooding through her. And Alina could feel his own anger melt away.

“I’ve seen you. I’ve seen your armor, seen the weak points that you protect so fiercely. You let me in once, even when you knew you couldn’t trust me. Will you let yourself trust me now, before I have a reason to stop you?”

“You already have a reason to stop me,” he said quietly.

Alina drew him closer, until he was forced to put a hand on her shoulder to steady himself as he leaned over the side of the bed. “Help me close the Fold. I know you can. We don’t even have to close it completely, not right now. But the country needs to be reunited, West Ravka needs to be ours again. Don’t become my monster again, Aleksander.”

A shudder ran through him, before he could hold it back. “Why?”

“Because it’s not something to make into your weapon.”

He shook his head. “Why do you keep using that name?”

“Because it’s yours. You are not just the Darkling, not to me.”

“Do you really know me, Alina?”

“I’d like to.”

He stared at her, she stared back. They were both frozen for a moment or two, before he started to pull away and she yanked him closer, rolling backwards to pull him on top of her. One arm braced him at her side, the other pressing to her belly as his eyes blazed.

“Let me,” she whispered to him, watching the way he shuddered. “This is a nothing moment in your life, if you decide that you will never want me. And I will be gone before the morning comes if you decide to be done with me, in the future.”

He seemed to almost bare his teeth at her, but she did nothing but watch until he leaned down to bury his nose against her neck, canines scraping against her throat. “What are you doing to me, Alina?”

“I am breaking your old habits,” she murmured, pressing her head back into the sheets. “I am going to make you into a better man, Aleksander. And if I can’t like this, then I’ll find another way. I’ll send myself back to the very beginning, no matter how many dozens of times I might need to, if it means that I’ll be able to die with the knowledge that you were saved from yourself.”

His teeth dug into her throat, tugging, sucking, marking her with dark hickies. “And if you find that I don’t need your help?”

“Then I will stay as far away as I can from you. I will force myself to waste away as an otkazat’sya if it means that you will come out as a better man.”

His hands clenched into her shirt, threatening to tear it before she rather suddenly threw him off of her, onto his back as she crawled over him. Her hands made quick work of the buttons of his kefta, until she was sliding it off of his arms one at a time, nearly ripping his shirt off of him.

“You are as much mine as you think I am yours.” She planted a hand on his chest, where she had once buried a blade, and she ached with the memory. “And I regret ever having to kill you, to be the one to end your life. I have many regrets, and I intend to keep myself from continuing to regret. I want to fix what was lost.”

He stared up at her, grey eyes fixed on hers. And then her power was crashing through her, and she didn’t try to stop it. It poured out of her, heat and light and shimmering waves of something like memories. If she focused she could have created images in the blinding light, but there was too much thrumming through her. And the Darkling didn’t let up, didn’t allow her to stop her own light, not until a sob tore out of her throat as she felt herself hit the wall, the edge of her limits.

Then the light died, and she wavered over him. The room was unbearably hot now, but he drew her nearer until her cheek was pressed to his chest.

“Sleep, Alina.”

“Cheater,” she murmured, feeling the lightest bounce of his chest as he let out a breath of a chuckle.

Then his hand drew through her hair, and her eyes started to slip closed. “It’s what I do.”

But despite the flat amusement in his voice, through their connection Alina could feel his confusion, the thoughtfulness that overtook him.

It was all she could do, to make him think.

~~~

In the morning she was still in the Darkling’s room, but he was gone. Her socks had been kicked off during the night, most likely by her own sleeping body - a habit she’d only discovered after she had started sharing an acceptably warm bed with Mal. But other than that she was still fully clothed, and as she pulled herself out of bed she found herself feeling startlingly exhausted.

Had the Darkling really pushed her that hard? She’d never actually hit a limit to her power when she had the amplifiers, so it was possible that it had just strained her more than normal. In which case she would have stretched her new limits much farther than she normally did, and… maybe it was something that was going to be part of his new plan.

Maybe he was still hunting after Morozova’s herd. Maybe he still planned to put that collar around her neck and make her a prisoner, or at least try to. She knew how to break out of those bonds, but the only way he would ever find the herd was going to be Mal.

She hoped that Mal had kept his promise, and hadn’t sworn himself into the service of the Darkling. She couldn’t bear that.

Lost in thought, she almost laid back down and fell asleep again. But then the door opened, and her eyes found the shape of the Darkling once again.

“Ah, so you are awake.”

“Barely,” she murmured quietly.

“It’s almost noon, you know.”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “What did you do to me?”

“I tested your limits. You are stronger than I thought.”

“I’ve been pushing myself much harder than I thought possible.”

He sat down beside her, watching her. “I want you to tell me your story, Alina.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not going to give you the information that you want.”

“Then tell me the unimportant parts.”

She stared at him. “Only if you tell me your story.”

“I think that I have a lot more to tell.”

“I have a feeling that you tell your stories in years.” It’s how he had viewed life, before. “I can only tell my stories in moments.”

He stared back, something flickering in his eyes too quickly to catch. “What do you want to know?”

“Have you ever loved?” Her voice was a murmur.

The Darkling frowned. “Not like others have. But I have my own kind of love.”

“Who?”

“I can’t remember her name anymore. I didn’t want to remember it.” He closed his eyes. “One of the few things that I kept away from my mother, at least before she passed. We used to spend lifetimes away from each other, traveling on our own. I met that woman during one of those times. We lived, she grew old, she died.”

“Have you ever had children?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never been foolish enough for it.”

Alina almost smiled. “What about with that woman? Were you wise enough to stay off of her?”

“We tried, for a while. Nothing ever came of it. It broke her heart, I think.” The way his eyes drifted told her that it had broken him too, at least for a time.

She reached for his hand and he jerked back. Unwilling to share right now, she could understand. But maybe, someday, he would open up more.

“What was your first time at the Little Palace like?”

Alina smiled this time, closing her eyes. “I hated it.”

Beside her, the Darkling let out a surprised breath of a laugh. “Really. You seem utterly comfortable here now,” he said with an edge of sarcasm. He knew she wasn’t quite settled, even now.

“Really. I thought that it was the worst thing I could imagine. I had been ripped from my friends after an awful attack where I saw my first taste of death, shoved into a carriage with an ass named Ivan and another who I couldn’t understand."

"Who was the other?" He seemed honestly curious, openly staring at her in a way she definitely wasn't used to seeing from him.

"Fedyor," she admitted with a small grin. "If it was just Ivan I would have thrown myself from the carriage the moment we got close enough to a cliff."

The Darkling raised an eyebrow at her. "I know Ivan isn't the most simulating company, but he is a good soldier."

"And the most meat-headed Grisha I've ever met," she grumbled back, delighted when she saw his smile. "But even after I got to the Little Palace, I was miserable. I couldn't send letters to my friends, I was constantly being hit by Baghra when I couldn't summon, and classes with Botkin would leave me even more covered in bruises."

He hummed thoughtfully, leaning back to prop himself up on his arms. No matter how much she had wanted this, it was still odd to see him like this, looking so relaxed and… human. Unguarded. "What do you want from me, Alina?"

"I've told you."

"You have to save me, yes, but what do you  _ want _ from me?"

She was silent for several moments. "I want to know you. Call it experimentation, but I've loved the same man for the majority of my life, been faithful. I know what it's like to love him, but I want to know what it's like to love others now."

“Are there others than just me and him?”

“One other,” she murmured. “But I don’t think I’ll go to him. Not yet.”

“And who was he?”

Alina stared at him, shaking her head. “Someone you ruined. You nearly destroyed him, but after your death… well, he got better."

“You seem uncertain. Do you not know?”

“No,” she whispered. “I died on the Fold, the people burned my body next to yours. And I lived my life peacefully, far away from the courts. They only visited then.”

He turned to her, eyes intense and aggressive now, though not threatening. “I don’t understand what you say. You say that you died on the Fold, and yet you went on to live a peaceful life. What do you mean?”

“Sankta Alina died. Genya disguised one of our fallen soldiers as my own body, and it was burned.”

“Sankta,” he breathed. “The people believed you to be a Saint? Is Genya herself a traitor?”

“She was loyal to you.”

“Until she wasn’t.”

“Until you punished her for not being able to take the life of someone who honestly called her a friend. Before you made her into Razrusha’ya.”

“Why do you pretend to know me so well?”

Alina leaned towards him, inspecting his beautiful face, free of the scars that had once marred it after their first true fight on the Fold. After she had left him in the dark for the volcra to feed on, when she had ran with Mal.

“I don’t pretend to know you. I know you, without a shadow of a doubt, I spent a year with you in my head. Even with all your manipulations and your carefully procured emotions, I can take you apart without even touching you.”

He sat frozen, glaring at her without a hint of anger in his face, until she reached up to thread her fingers into the hair at the back of his head. As their connection opened up, she swore she felt just a flicker of relief - so small she wasn’t sure who it came from. But then he hardened around the edges, his guard of metal walls shuddering and trying to shut her out.

In response she tightened her hand in his hair as he shuddered, eyes fluttering shut for just half a second as a warm sense of lust slid through their connection. But the moment she thought he might loosen up, let her in even for a moment, his hand found her wrist and he dragged her hand from her forcefully.

“Stop,” he said hoarsely.

“No,” she murmured. “I will have you, Aleksander. I won’t allow you to be alone anymore.”

“You can’t.”

“Are you going to stop me? Do you want to?”

“I-” He cut himself off with a quiet growl. “I’m not doing this, Alina.”

She leaned closer, pressing herself to him. Closer than she had ever truly allowed herself to be to him, not without him initiating. “You’ll have to do it eventually. You’ll have to choose.”

The Darkling huffed before pulling away. “Eventually can be a long while.”

“I expect as much.”

And Alina watched him walk out without so much as a backwards glance, closing her eyes with a sigh.

~~~

A week more of training, of making new limits, and she saw a list of names on the Darkling’s desk as she passed through.

She would have let it go without a second thought, but her eye caught onto a name that was too familiar for her heart to release.

_ Malyen Oretsev. _

She gingerly picked up the paper, sliding it out of the pile that it was in, and a scream came strangled from her throat as her hand came up to muffle the sound.

Still, the door opened hurriedly as one of the Darkling’s oprichniki looked into the room to see her standing, frozen, with a paper in her hand and tears already dripping down her cheeks. It only took a few minutes for the Darkling to find her, with her knees pressed against her chest and the paper clenched in her hand.

He crouched in front of her, taking in her appearance, the list of the deceased. “Who are you crying for, Alina?”

She slapped the crumpled paper to his chest, an angry sob growing in her throat. “Him! It’s him, he was the amplifier,” she sobbed, her cheeks red as she let out a heartbroken wail. “I loved him, you said they wouldn’t cross the Fold.”

The Darkling stared at her for several moments before gingerly brushing her hair back away from her face. “I said that I could stop that crossing. But it had to happen at some point.”

“Don’t! Don’t touch me, I’m-” Her breath was coming in short, shallow gasps between sobs that shook her entire body. “I hate you,” she said quietly. “I can’t… how am I supposed to…”

He seemed entirely unaffected by this as he drew closer. “Alina, just breathe.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“You can.” He took hold of her, sitting back and dragging her to him until she could sit, tucked against his chest as she sat in his lap. “You’ll get over him, you’ll forget. Just give it time.”

“He wasn’t supposed to die so soon,” she rasped. “No, no, he- he was supposed to-”

The Darkling tucked his nose against her hair. “He is only an otkazat’sya.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Alina shoved her face against his chest, desperate for some semblance of closeness, something to fill the hole in her chest where she had always kept Mal tucked away. “He- he was- he was the last one, without him the other two will never be found.”

“Then they are lost.”

He was too calm.

“Why don’t you care?” She gasped the words, pushing herself away from him again. “Why- you…”

The Darkling flashed her a small smile, the look turning her blood to ice. “You can’t keep secrets, Alina.”

“No.”

“You are a fool to think that I would ever be powerless without you. And to think that I would ever let something as precious as one of Morozova's amplifiers die at someone else's hand."

A fist thumped against his chest as grief was replaced with fury. “You’re a filthy liar,” she cried, the tears that gathered in her eyes now angry, hopeless. “This is why I had to stop you, you-”

He swooped down to press his lips to hers, then. An echo of a growl rumbled in his throat and he bit lightly at her lips, a hand sliding into her hair. “You can’t take it back, Alina,” he murmured against her as a sob shuddered through her. “You said you almost loved me once. You can’t take it back.”

“Don’t hurt them,” she whispered. “I won’t be your slave again.”

“You won’t be. I will be yours just as much as you are mine.” His words echoed the ones that she had told him no more than a week ago.

_ I do so love it when you quote me. _

She shoved him away with a broken, stuttering wail. “No! No, I won’t-”

He clutched at her hand, drawing her power forth, and for a moment she resisted it. Her free hand clawed at the front of his shirt, before her rage and frustration and loneliness ripped through her and she remembered something Baghra had told her once.

She couldn't let him win, not this time. She wouldn't watch him tear everything of hers apart.

So she took the power that was flooding out of her, and before the Darkling could realize, she turned it inwards.

It was only a moment of intense, agonizing, amazing light and heat before her eyes were opening to see an achingly familiar floor, words pounding through her head with a vicious ache.

_ Save him. You must. You have to. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. Sorry not sorry? I just feel like the Darkling is devious enough to fake some papers to leave for Alina to 'accidentally' see... yall are fools if you think I was going to make this easy on her >;)
> 
> Anyway, my thoughts on Alina's self-destruct was just... she might be afraid to know what comes after stuff if she does die and the Darkling is apparently 'saved', if he is the one that the universe is yelling at her about. And between the slingshot back and forth from grief (because c'mon, as much as most of us don't like Mal, she was still in love with him, she's not just going to suddenly not care about her childhood sweetheart) and anger, and the idea that the Darkling is going to find a way to kind of enslave her again it's just... big oof. So if it seems kind of weird and extreme for her to do that, just know... I do have a thought process behind it, lol.
> 
> Also any guesses on when/where she woke up? 030 this is when I get into iffy canon stuff and have fun, lmao. I'd love to see your theories on where this is going ;)


	4. A New Direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the failure of her last attempt, Alina decides to go in a whole new direction. The opposite direction as the Darkling, and yet she is still chasing after familiar faces.

Keramzin was as familiar like this as it had been after her and Mal had rebuilt it. Ana Kuya was still just as much of a terror, though Alina much preferred seeing her like this than her body hanging from the boughs of the oak tree outside.

She couldn’t even remember much of this old Keramzin, not the day to day things that were so ordinary.

But it was before the military. And the ache in her heart as she stared out the window told her what she needed to do this time. She was a year younger than she had been at Kribirsk, she’d have to go along this carefully if she wanted a chance to do anything.

So when she found Mal, this version of him that seemed so small even compared to him in the military, she waited until they were alone and kicking their feet in the dirt.

“I want to leave this place,” she said suddenly.

Mal smiled at her. “I know. Which is why we’re going to Poliznaya, right? Just when we’re old enough.”

Alina shook her head. “No, I…” She sighed quietly. “I want to go to the True Sea. I want to see if we can join Sturmhond’s crew.”

“Oh really?” Mal grinned at her. “When did you get so adventurous, Alina?”

“When you finally got into my head, I guess,” she said with her own smile. “What do you think?”

“How would we ever get to the True Sea, though?”

She shifted on her feet. “I have a way.”

“Oh?” He leaned closer with that wide, not-quite-innocent grin of his. “You have a way through the Shadow Fold?”

“Yup.” Alina smiled at him. “If we leave by tomorrow, we could get there by the end of fall if we worked enough to keep ourselves fed.”

Mal huffed, standing up straight and puffing out his chest just enough to look absolutely ridiculous. “Or, yknow, I could hunt for the two of us.”

She dissolved into giggles for a moment, watching the way he pouted at her and stuck out his tongue in an absolutely childish way, before she eventually composed herself again… for the most part. “I know you can, Mal. But it would help to have some money gathered together, yknow?”

He sighed, shrugging helplessly. “Yeah, yeah. But… tomorrow? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said definitively. “And I’ll show you how I plan on getting across once we leave. I can’t do it safely here, or people would talk.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Don’t you know? I’m a very dangerous individual.” She smiled at him, and Mal smiled back.

“Cmon, let’s go get dinner before Ana Kuya starts shouting,” he said after a moment, waving her along before him.

~~~

The next night, they were saying their goodbyes with packs slung across their shoulders.

Ana Kuya looked almost disturbed to be seeing the two of us walk away in the dark, but Alina couldn’t say anything for the other children watching them go. She couldn’t even remember any of their names, which she was quietly grateful for as she remembered the oak tree strung with bodies. Botkin had been among those, once, his face beaten and bloody from the fight he had put up.

Her and Mal only got a few miles down the road before they decided to stop for the night. He bothered her for a little bit about what it was she was hiding from him, but she managed to postpone it for a while longer. When he had fallen asleep, she turned onto her back to look at the night sky, a few clouds skidding across the blanket of stars above them.

She thought of Mal, the scar on her palm that she would never be without. In every attempt at this life she had stretching before her, a part of her knew that she would always have Mal, no matter how far back she went. He was destined to be her starting point, one way or another, and nothing would stop the two of them from being together in this beginning she revisited each time.

In the morning, as they were packing up their things to start on the road again, Alina paused as she pulled her bag over her shoulder.

“You wanted to see what I’m going to use to get us through the Fold, right?”

Mal turned to her, eyes bright and curious, nodding already. “Absolutely! I wanna know what you’ve been keeping from me.”

She smiled a little and raised her hands, pulling for light. To her surprise, she nearly overdid it - she had much more power this time. Light flooded the area around them shortly before she dimmed it down to a weak glow in her palms, watching the way Mal’s eyes went wide with wonder.

“Wow! Are- are you Grisha, then? How? When the testers came they didn’t find anything, how did you find out?”

“I… was walking around in the trees and tripped into some low branches. I guess it surprised me bad enough that it just shocked the light right out of me,” she lied with a shy smile.

Mal hummed, but he took her hands and pulled them closer to himself, his fingers running over her palms. She couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her at his touch. “We… we could cross the Fold with this? What about the volcra?”

“Well, they never come out of the Fold, so they’re probably avoiding sunlight,” she said with a shrug. “And if I can summon sunlight to us, we could even just walk across the Fold if we found a place where it’s thinner.”

“You’re sure?”

She nodded at him with a smile. “I’m sure. We can get to the True Sea with this.”

He whooped into the empty air around them, hooking his arm into hers with a grin. “Alright! Let’s get to Sturmhond!”

The road ahead was hard. And despite the fact that she found excuses to use her powers, to summon, she didn’t do it nearly enough to make her into the strong girl she had been before. She was still weak, and she tired easily, and the bags under her eyes still looked dark and hollow. But she was better than if she didn’t do any summoning at all, so she kept at it during the brightest hours of the day, stretching herself to her limits when she was certain that no one was around. If anyone was around, all they would have seen was an indistinct pillar of light that was brighter than normal, a passing warmth that came and went with the wind before eventually dying out.

Mal was still rather amazed at what she could do, and if he wasn’t hunting for their lunch he was watching her practice, seeing the light dance at her fingertips and basking in the warmth it brought as fall grew closer.

Despite her thoughts of picking up small jobs along the way, the two of them mostly avoided big settlements and headed straight for the Fold. They kept whatever spare change they could though, a small coin purse nestled at the bottom of Alina’s bag filled with enough money to hopefully get them each a good meal or two once they got to West Ravka.

A month after leaving Keramzin, Mal seemed to be getting jittery about the crossing that they would be undertaking. Alina knew the feeling, she knew that it would be hard on her to keep enough light for the two of them to get from edge to edge without being attacked by the volcra. And if they got aggressive… they could be in trouble.

But she had to keep up her confidence, if only for Mal. She couldn’t let him think that she was doubting herself, or for all she knew he would convince her to turn around and go back to Keramzin until they could join the military. Which would only land her back into the hands of the Darkling, without enough knowledge of who he was. Mal certainly would never risk crossing the Fold if she didn’t know with certainty that they could make it through.

So she kept her thoughts to herself, and Mal could feel the change in her. He didn’t know where it came from, when she turned from his best friend to a woman wise beyond her apparent years. A woman who was prone to silence even when alone by his side, a woman that suffered from the occasional nightmare that she could never explain to him.

But her power grew as they traveled slowly, on foot, taking their time and finally slowing enough to find work in the towns they passed through. She found isolated places to practice her powers, and cautiously she started pushing herself until she glowed with a different sort of light, and Mal could never understand the satisfaction in her eyes when she came back so tired. The hunger for more in her throat when she explained what she had been doing.

They shared a room in an inn of a town only a few miles from the edge of the Fold when Alina again wondered if she could mimic the Darkling’s powers again, if she could learn other bits of the Small Science. If, maybe, she could close the Fold on her own if she worked hard enough.

A few more days, a bit more work, and finally they set off. They left at the edge of night once more to avoid suspicion from the townspeople and left going parallel to the Fold until they were out of sight of the town.

And then they headed towards it. Standing well back from the start of the shadows, Mal glanced at her and reached for her hand. She felt the familiar palm against hers and took a breath to reassure herself, before she stepped forward.

Step after step, they neared the edge of the Fold. Where she had killed the person next to her, where she had lost her power. She shook from the memories, watching the darkness being torn apart by the very people that the Darkling had looked down upon so harshly. But Mal squeezed her hand and she remembered to breathe again, turning a palm upwards as they found the terrible darkness.

Light flowed from her, a dome over their heads, and she nodded. They would be fine. A walk through the night, and by morning they would be across to see their first glimpse of the True Sea.

His first glance at it, she reminded herself. She’d seen too much of it already to forget the beauty of it, even if her and Mal had never returned to West Ravka after the battle.

The walk was long, and terrifying. She heard the beats of volcra wings and nearly froze, and again as they shrieked in anger when they found her light. But she pushed the dome out further to keep them back and they continued on, legs working quickly over the colorless sand.

Her light flickered eventually, as they reached the banks of the Unsea.

But by that time they could see the dim hint of morning light and she stretched for it, hoping that the frustrated screams of the volcra would leave them the closer they got.

They didn’t. But Mal grabbed her hand and ran for it, nearly dragging her behind him for the last two hundred yards to the edge, until her power at last hit its final wall and stuttered out of existence just the moment they reached the morning sun.

There they both collapsed, from fear and from exhaustion both. A night spent walking through a realm of nightmares, a black haze of memories for Alina.

They only dragged themselves far enough away from the Fold to avoid suspicion before falling asleep, using their bags as pillows without even bothering with a blanket.

~~~

In the early afternoon, the two of them woke and stared back into the Fold. Mal was the first to start laughing, and Alina found that she followed quickly after him.

They had crossed the Fold alone, the two of them barely more than kids, with the power of sunlight and a whole lot of belief.

Mal was snorting and giggling to himself all the way into town, and every time they made eye contact they would both burst into laughter as if they were sharing an inside joke with every glance. People gave them odd looks as they passed, but neither of them cared. They had done the impossible together.

Nikolai would be proud.

The thought brought her back to the present. Where could they start their search? They could try to find one of the smuggler’s routes that Tamar had shown them in a different lifetime, but Alina didn’t know what she could ever do to talk herself up enough to get to him. Unless she showed her summoning skills off, and in that case she would immediately be a target for the Darkling the moment he got word of it.

“How are we going to find Sturmhond?” She bent her head close to Mal, muttering to him.

He raised his eyebrows at her, looking honestly shocked. “You didn’t think this far ahead?”

“Sorry, I was kind of focused on getting the two of us across the big black shadow realm of death,” she said sourly. “I… I guess we could try snooping around. Try to see if anyone knows him around here.”

“Suggesting that we split up already?” Mal pouted slightly. “I don’t think that I like that idea.”

“We don’t have to go far from each other. Just enough to cover more area.”

He gave her a look but after a moment he nodded. “Just across the street?”

“Just across the street.” She smiled at him once more and they split up once they found a busy enough place, with shops and places to stay. West Ravka was much more lush than the rest of the country, with the business coming in from across the sea to set their economy booming.

And they spent the day like that, asking around as quietly as they could. Most everyone Alina asked just rolled their eyes and shook their heads, as if she was a little girl asking after a fairy tale, but she caught the few glances that others stole over the crowds.

When her and Mal reunited, she had bought some dried meats for them to eat for dinner as they found an alleyway to squat in for the night.

“Nothing,” he grumbled. “No one knew a thing.”

“They’ll be coming for us tomorrow though.”

Mal looked at her, questioning. “Who? How do you know?”

“I think that we asked enough questions to raise a few red flags, is all. But I don’t think that they’ll try to hurt us.” Alina shrugged and knawed on a piece of her food thoughtfully for a moment. “If they do, then I’ll hurt them back. I’m sure I can blind at least one or two of them. Just don’t panic too much, alright Mal?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, m’lady,” he drawled in amusement. “I didn’t know you were such a tactician.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

“Oh really? For what, our next infiltration of Keramzin’s sugar stock?” He laughed at the memory, leaning against her shoulder.

For a while the two of them spoke of the home that they had left behind, the adventure they were pursuing, the things that scared them most on the Fold. But eventually their voices died out, and as Alina felt Mal’s head resting on top of hers on his shoulder, she let out a quiet sigh and let herself slip into an exhausted sleep.

~~~

Surely enough, in the morning the two of them woke to find three men sitting around them, shuffling through their bags. One had already grabbed out the bag of coin they had, counting through it as he added it up under his breath.

“Well hi there,” Alina stated blearily. “Can you…” Her words her broken off by a yawn, before she rubbed her eyes and continued. “Can you not rifle through our things? We don’t exactly have a lot to give up.”

“Canteens, a couple of bedrolls, an extra blanket, a fair bit of spare change, a lantern, the remnants of what food you’ve been carrying, and not a damn thing that could tie you to anything. What’s a couple of nobodies like you doing asking after Sturmhond?”

Alina yawned again, seeing that Mal had already opened his eyes and was watching. “We wanted to join his crew.”

The man barked a laugh. There was something familiar about him that she couldn’t place. “You want to join Sturmhond’s crew? A scrawny thing like you? I’m afraid I don’t think that he’d find much use for you.”

“More than you think.”

“Oh really? Prove it.”

“Not here. Get me on board a ship headed towards Sturmhond and I’ll show you.”

“I don’t think I have a reason to.” The man frowned at her brazen words, and honestly Alina was too tired to care.

She sighed, lifting her eyes towards the sky that was quickly getting lighter. “If you think I’m lying, then you can dump my body overboard and let me drown. Mal here is definitely gonna be useful for you, he’s good at everything I can think of.”

Mal snorted and shrugged. “Eh.”

“You are, now hush.” She nudged his shoulder, shaking her head clear of her grogginess. “What I have is something that is best kept hidden, so I’ll show you once we’re out of sight of dry land. Fair?”

The man grunted. “Fine. But I’m not going to trust you at all, I hope you know.”

“I don’t expect you to. Now, if you’d return my things to our bags?” She stretched out her sore back, nothing like the aches and pains that old age had brought her later in life.

But the men simply stood up, the one that had been counting their change letting it fall to the ground and scatter.

She resisted the temptation to kick at their knees, and leaned forward to begin gathering up the coins. She returned them to the bag they had been in slowly, letting Mal pack up their bags, and eventually she tied their money purse shut and nestled it back into her pack.

Then they were escorted towards the docks, towards a ship that looked almost like a sister to the Volkvolny, at least from what Alina remembered. Maybe it was in fact the Volkvolny, and it was just her memory that had changed.

But the man strode up to the deck, shouting orders, and it suddenly hit her why the man was so familiar. It was Privyet. A younger, more brash and bold Privyet from what she remembered, looking less sad about the departure of his captain.

A smile bloomed across her features at the memory of him donning Nikolai’s disgustingly gaudy teal coat.

“What are you smiling at, girl?” He called, turning his eye towards her. He was just the person that her and Mal had needed to run into.

“Nothing,” she called back. “Just thinking. And my name is Alina.”

He hmphed and turned away, directing his crew around the ship as they readied for their departure. Beside her, Mal was nearly bouncing on his toes, looking around at all the rigging of the ship, and she knew that he was already trying to make sense of them in his mind, to find the place where he could fit in the best. She had put a purpose in his mind, but what she had planned for herself was much different.

“You should go and try to make friends,” she said to Mal, nudging his shoulders. “If we’re trying to make a good impression, you trying to learn how to work on a ship will probably be handy.”

Mal grinned at her. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll check in with you in a few.”

And she set down her back beside a clear portion of railing, remembering the weeks spent aboard a ship she couldn’t remember the name to. Being called ghosts once again, standing at the back of the ship to watch for black sails in fear of the one who chased them. She sat down and closed her eyes for a bit, feeling suddenly tired.

There were so many memories tainting her mind. It hurt, it exhausted her to have thoughts of fear hit her even though she knew for a fact that she wasn’t being hunted. Not yet, not like this. The Darkling didn’t know of her yet, and hopefully he wouldn’t know for a while to come if things went her way for once. If not, she had a fairly easy way to reach a reset, though she didn’t like the thought of drowning. But she wouldn’t let him take her, not until she understood all the players that were part of this game to fix the world.

An hour or two passed of alternately dozing and gazing across the deck at Mal as he badgered the crew into teaching him knots and what ropes to pull and when he needed to climb up into the rigging. He had always been so at ease around other people, something that Alina had always envied.

But now she felt comfortable with it. She could be the outsider, the watchful one with too much wisdom and odd pieces of knowledge that she shouldn’t have ever known.

“Now, what was this trick you wanted to show me?” Privyet stood over her, hands on his hips and a hard expression on his face.

And Alina smiled, offering her palms up as light flooded towards her. “I think that Sturmhond would love to have someone like me on board with him.”

Privyet’s eyes went wide at the demonstration, and slowly he nodded. “I believe so.”

And with that, he turned and started calling out orders once again. The ship swung onto a new course and they set out, crew members staring at her curiously.

“Squallers at the ready!”

A few people started, glancing up at him until he barked the order once more.

Then a few random men stood at marked points before the sails and raised their arms, the sails filling with air with a light boom of noise from the massive sheets. The ship shot forward on the water, moving faster than any ship had any natural right to. But this wasn’t the Hummingbird or the Kingfisher, it wouldn’t up and leave the water and send her stomach twisting into knots.

Thankfully.

The Squallers were changed out every hour or so to allow them to rest, and by nightfall they had flown more miles than Alina had ever gone in such a short time, at least in a ship such as this.

She could see Privyet checking the stars, inspecting a map he held in his hands. She could hear him muttering to himself, cursing under his breath.

But finally, she shrugged and settled back against the railing to rest properly this time when it became clear they weren't going any further tonight. The rocking of the ship lulled her to sleep easily, memories of a too-clever fox brightening her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so can I just say that I uhhhhhh Love and adore Nikolai? Like you guys are going to get so tired of me gushing about him but OOF I just,,, love my sassy prince.
> 
> ... also I've been having concerns about this kind of suddenly shifting and feeling like a completely different fic, but I think that shift is just kind of coming from the fact that with each new life, Alina herself is changing. But I don't know. Feedback would be great, if you have it in you! Help a writer out with their writing nerves :)


	5. Loose-Lipped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina gets her first glance of Sturmhond in a long while, and well... trust is somewhat hard to come by, but she's sure that she'll get there eventually. She knows him best, after all.

The next morning Alina saw what Privyet had been searching for the night before. Just at the horizon, a cluster of ships floated peacefully on the ocean waves, just far enough away from each other to avoid the possibilities of hitting into one another but close enough that the crews of all the different ships could likely shout to each other to converse.

Privyet was the one to steer the ship over towards the rest of them, coming as close as he dared to one of the outer ships before setting out a gangplank to cross with.

He took hold of Alina, leaving Mal in their wake, walking her across the bowing board and onto the other ship. And to another, deeper in the cluster. And another after that, until they found the true Volkvolny in all of the ship’s sleek glory.

Sturmhond must have gotten word shouted along about his visitor, as he was waiting for them with a smile on his face.

Alina nearly sobbed. She had missed that lumpy nose, his muddy green eyes and the odd shade of red his hair had been turned.

“Well, Privyet, as much as this girl looks like an absolute treasure, I’m not entirely sure why she’s here.”

“She’s- well.” He prodded Alina’s side. “Show him.”

She almost couldn’t, too busy staring at him and taking in this face that had been Tailored to look so different from the Prince Perfect that had given her the Lantsov emerald so long ago.

But at another prod from Privyet, she took Nikolai’s hand, a glow pressed to his palm with a warmth that couldn’t be mistaken as anything else. She heard the soft intake of breath from him and smiled, stepping closer to take a closer look at his face. It wasn’t as clean as Genya could have gotten it, nowhere near - but Tolya was a Heartrender first and foremost. Not a Healer, not a Tailor.

She wanted to ask where they were. She wanted to see their faces, their bodies still free of the sun tattoos that they bore as part of their faith. She wanted to see Tamar with her Heartrender’s grin and her axes in hand. But she couldn’t answer the questions that would bring up, so she settled on narrowing her eyes at him.

“Your hair is a rather strange color, Sturmhond.”

“Rather unexpected, you mean. Not that you can say anything, my little Sun Summoner.”

She smiled. “I have been nothing but unexpected from the day I was born.”

“Obviously. Now, does your light show have a use, or are you hoping to be sold off for ransom?”

“I can do a great many things with my light. I want to become a part of your crew.”

“Show me.” He smiled, expectant. He knew she wouldn’t disappoint, not with an attitude like what she had.

So Alina cupped her hands, focusing lightly - beside them, Privyet disappeared with a little shudder and flicker of light. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough to impress. It gave something for Nikolai to do with her, she knew his brilliant brain wouldn’t just pass up the chance to make something temporarily disappear, whether it be his men or maybe, someday, an entire fleet of ships.

“Amazing,” he breathed, reaching towards Privyet. She let her power drop as Privyet moved, smiling herself. “Well, what can I say, lovely? You’re hired.”

"I knew you'd like it," she said proudly. "I still need practice, but I'm sure that I can help out your fleet."

"Who knew that one of the most mythical beings in the world would show up on my doorstep, actively searching to join my crew. I'm flattered, really."

"Just say you're pleasantly surprised, Sturmhond, and leave it at that. Do you always talk this much?"

He grinned, despite the fact that Privyet seemed rather shocked at the familiar way she spoke to the infamous privateer. "Almost always, but not quite the constant stream people seem to think. You see, it's rather easy to say a lot without saying much at all."

"Maybe you'll teach me one day," Alina said. She found that she didn't mind his gaudy frock coat on him as much when he was Sturmhond, not Nikolai. Maybe it was the way the red of his hair clashed so awfully with the teal, or maybe it was just a reminder of the fun he had before his intent to take over the country. She had always gotten the feeling that he missed being Sturmhond, his crew and his fleet.

He swept into a bow, the large cuffs of his coat brushing the deck. "Of course I will. Welcome aboard, ms…"

"Just call me Alina. I don't need any titles."

"Alina." He straightened up and gave her a grin. "Make yourself at home, we'll be disbanding this gathering in a few hours. Got some information on some Fjerdan trading ships headed for Shu Han."

"Straight into action?" She blinked a little but nodded. "I'm not sure if I can be of much help right now, but I'll do what I can-"

Sturmhond was already shaking his head. "No, you're going to be practicing. I'm not bringing my new little secret into battle with me, she's a bit too precious for that just yet. Privyet, take her back to your ship, see that she has what she needs to practice."

A small nod of understanding passed between the two of them, and then Privyet was leading her back the way they had come.

"What did you show him that had him so impressed?" He leaned a bit closer to her and Alina smiled.

She cupped her hands in front of her, bending the light, and her forearms disappeared from his sight for a moment before they flickered back. "I just made you invisible for a moment. I guess you couldn't see it on your side of it, huh?"

"Not a thing… fascinating. What do you think you'll need to practice?"

"A room of my own. I don't mind if I'm just in the cargo hold or something, I just need a space that I can block up so people won't question too much if they see light pouring out of the cracks. The best way for me to get more powerful is to push myself, so…"

He nodded. "Sounds good. Who knows, maybe someday you'll be commanding your own ship."

"Under Sturmhond's flag, of course," she said with a grin.

Privyet gave her a grin in return. "Of course."

When they got back to the ship, people looked expectantly at the both of them, until Privyet shouted to them to welcome the new crew mates. And then they broke out into howls of an interesting sort of joy, barking and growling like hounds. She’d almost forgotten the oddities that made up Sturmhond's crews and their habits. She grinned as Mal looked around in confusion before laughing as one man clapped a hand to his shoulder.

They'd gotten to their goal, finally.

~~~

The attack on the Fjerdan ships was a success, and all ships involved with it were given a share of the spoils. Privyet didn't get much since they weren't involved, but Alina was given a set of mirrors that they had found. She thought of the gloves that David had once made for her, wondered if the Fabrikators that Sturmhond had could replicate it. But that felt like cheating, and she knew that no one could make them as well as David. If he ever saw the replicate gloves he would probably have a heart attack before taking them into his custody for improvements.

As always, Mal fit right in once he really started learning how to help the crew. He gambled, he drank, he wrestled with them, Alina even caught him kissing some of the pretty women on board a few times. It was normal, as normal as they could get on a pirate vessel miles out at sea.

For Alina, it meant a lot of time below deck in a small room that had been emptied out for her. There she would summon her light, focusing on pouring out as much as she could without heat. It wouldn't do for anything to catch fire and burn the ship around her. She practiced with illusions, with bending light to make things invisible. She didn't have the instruction of Baghra behind her, but she could almost hear her voice in her ear, demanding more from her at every turn.

So eventually she made her way to the deck to practice instead, and finally let the crew see what it was that she had been spending so many hours alone doing. They were shocked, amazed, and generally overjoyed to help her with her exercises. They all wanted a turn to be invisible, though some were more mischievous about it than others. They called out when they could see the ones that were supposed to be hidden, and over time Alina got… very good at it. Much better than she had been when she only had five days to practice, and only desperation and fear driving her forward. Weeks of practice later with moving targets and she could almost flawlessly hide entire groups of people.

They returned to West Ravka at some point, to stock up on supplies and fresh water, and by that time Alina was looking healthier than she had been in years, according to Mal. It made her laugh, but she had to admit that she was feeling better as well. It was always a bit of a shock to feel the difference of herself before and after she used her summoning. She noticed that she was starting to tan with all the time spent in the sun, and her hair was starting to get lighter streaks in it. It was odd - she'd never spent enough time outside for so long to see the changes the sun brought forth in her. All her life she'd been doing chores in Keramzin, sitting in the Documents Tent, traveling in carriages, spending time in the Little Palace's library and likewise spending more than a little time out of sight of the sun.

How interesting that a few months spent out at sea could change her so.

But eventually, after those months on Privyet's ship had passed, Sturmhond met with her again.

The two ships floated close together, and Alina was sure there were Tidemakers helping to make sure they didn't get too close to each other. This time Sturmhond was the one to cross over to her, hoping down gracefully with his brace of pistols rattling.

"Alina, you're looking well," he said with an almost flirtatious grin. "How has your practice been going?"

"It's been going well. I'm definitely better than I was the last time we met." She grinned back at him, the loose shirt she'd taken to wearing fluttering in a faint breeze. "I can hide the entire crew from sight with only a little bit of trouble. When they're moving, at least. Stationary I do just fine."

Sturmhond raised an eyebrow. "Well then, don't just tell me. Show me."

Alina shrugged and turned, nodding to Privyet. He shouted orders and the entire crew started milling around, some in the ropes and some on deck. And then they all disappeared, only leaving the noise that they created with their movements. But no one called out that they could see someone else, and at some point Sturmhond even jumped a little as someone came up and poked at his elbow. Probably Mal, she knew instinctively, trying and rather spectacularly failing to hide a smile. Still, once she let her power drop, the crew was standing in a loose semi-circle around them.

They were proud of their Sun Summoner. They were proud to be the ones that had trained with her, at the very least.

Sturmhond laughed, then. He threw his head back, arms crossed over his chest and face turned up to the sky, and Alina thought she would melt. She had missed that sound. "How lucky I must be to have attracted a woman such as yourself. You're going to be a great person to have on board."

"Am I coming with you?" She smiled at him, trying to ignore the way she knew Mal would be stiffening up behind her at the suggestion that they would be separated. They needed to be, or she would break his heart all over again when Nikolai finally showed himself. And breaking his heart would only hurt her as well.

He hummed for a few moments, before shaking his head. “No, not quite. I want to have you run a few jobs with Privyet.”

“Alright.”

“Do you think that you could hide an entire ship? That would definitely help in pulling off an attack successfully.”

Alina grimaced slightly. “I could probably do it, but I’m not sure for how long. That’s a lot of area to take care of, if I have to cover the wake of the ship. If there was another ship we ran with to cover it up, it’d help.”

Sturmhond gave her a calculating look before nodding. “I can do that, if there’s any larger groups of ships coming through. Keep practicing though, see if you can cover the ship before that happens, and if you think you have the time, come join me for a drink.”

“Are you inviting me right now, Sturmhond?”

“Only if you think I can wipe that smile off your face,” he said with a grin. “But you seem pretty secure in your facial expressions.”

She huffed a laugh. “Well, you’ll never know until you try.”

“Very true. So, do you think you can spare the time for your fleet commander?”

“Of course.” Alina stepped forward with a smile, taking Sturmhond in as he grinned back with his too-clever fox face. His nose was looking particularly lumpy today. “Lead the way, commander.”

He flashed her the last of his grin before turning to cross back over to his ship, the Volkvolny. Alina followed, her hands calloused from work on the ship that not even her status as a Sun Summoner could save her from - not that she tried very hard to avoid it. Everybody on the ship had their work to do, and when she wasn’t too tired from pushing her powers to their limits, she was learning to work the lines as well.

When they reached the deck of the Volkvolny, Sturmhond waved her along to the captain’s quarters that she remembered so well.

He didn’t have quite the collection that he had the last time Alina had been invited to dine with him - he still had a year or so to work up to that. She pulled out a seat from the table and sat without him so much as inviting her to do so, an action that was rewarded with a raised eyebrow.

But still, when Sturmhond sat across from her, grabbing a bottle of brandy that she knew he preferred, he gave her a small smile before pushing over a cup of the amber liquid.

“You act rather brash around me, Alina. Certainly more so than any of the new recruits that I take into the fleet.”

She picked up the glass he offered, swirling the drink around idly. “Well, it’s not like I’m a regular recruit anyways. Even among the Grisha you have, I’m a rather special case.”

“You’re not wrong, but you act as if you know something that you shouldn’t.” Sturmhond sipped at his drink, and the light in his eyes was too familiar to be anybody but Nikolai. She wanted to tell him so badly, wanted to let him know what she knew.

But she also had a feeling that he would never believe the story that she told, and there was no other safe answer for how she knew who he was. So she shrugged silently, swallowing down a mouthful of brandy with a slight grimace. She’d never been a fan of any kind of alcohol.

He chuckled into his glass at her expression. “I mean, I would propose a game of sorts, but if you make that face at brandy I’m afraid you wouldn’t like it very much.”

“What’s your game, Ni-” She stopped herself before she could say his true name, her face flushing in embarrassment. “What’s your game?”

Sturmhond raised an eyebrow but let it go. “A game of guesses. Every time I get something about you right, you have to take a drink. Every time you get something about me right, I have to take a drink. What do you think?”

“I think that you’ll have to give me rather small drinks if you want to keep up with my drunkenness,” she said with an embarrassed smile. “I’m afraid I’m a serious lightweight.”

“I’m sure.” He raised an eyebrow. “No other concerns?”

She shrugged. “I’ll take your game.” She was going to regret this, she knew. But part of her really, really wanted to know what Sturmhond thought he knew about her.

“Alright. I’ll go first, if that’s alright with you?” He hummed as she nodded, staring at her critically. “Hmm… I’m betting that you haven’t been around many Grisha before.”

Suddenly Alina found herself with a little bit of a conundrum. Technically she’d already been around a  _ lot _ of Grisha before, but that was in an entirely different life. But for the sake of not immediately getting drunk off her ass at the beginning of the game, she decided to cheat a little. So she shook her head, smiling at him as he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh really? Where have you been around Grisha before joining the fleet?”

She shrugged. “Here and there. I’ve seen enough of them that I think that I can say that I’ve been around them.”

“Not very exact, Alina…” He stared at her carefully.

“And I bet that Sturmhond isn’t your real name?” She glanced at his drink, as if daring him to not take a drink.

But he only rolled his eyes and tossed back his brandy. “Of course I’m not going to use my real name out here, sunshine. Only fools do that.”

“Then what is your real name?”

He grinned at her, leaning forward to set his elbows on the table in front of him. “Maybe you’ll find out, someday. Gotta seriously earn my trust for that.”

“I’m sure I’ll get there.”

“Absolutely, sunshine. Now, I’m guessing that you aren’t a spy working for the Darkling. Or the government in general.”

Alina grinned and gestured for him to pour her another drink before downing it with a slight hiss. “That’s really an awful question, Ni-” Again, she caught herself before she could say his name, shaking her head. “Now are you going to start asking better questions?”

“What’s this name you keep trying to call me by?” He raised an eyebrow. “Once I could see it as you calling me by the wrong name, but twice is just too much.”

“No one,” she said, shaking her head again. “Just an old friend of mine.”

He hummed, but didn’t say anything as he sat back in his chair, putting one foot up onto the table. Did he always have such long legs? Alina supposed she’d never really paid attention to them in particular.

“I think that you’ve collected more unique Grisha than just me,” she said after a moment, keeping their game going. She really did have an unfair advantage here.

Sturmhond smiled at her, shrugging. “Depends on what you count as unique.”

“Someone that doesn’t have the usual abilities of the three orders of Grisha.”

At that, he took a drink.

“I think that you’re hiding something rather major from me.”

She shrugged, taking a drink of her own. “We all have something to hide, as you’ve made fairly obvious. And I’m guessing that you only have a select few of your crew members that you actually trust.”

“Of course.” Another drink for him. “No matter how much we’ve gone through together, this crew, this  _ fleet, _ is still made up of cutthroats and thieves.”

Alina shrugged. “And what’s your guess for me?”

“I think you’re smarter than you seem.”

“Am I supposed to drink to that? Either I put myself down and refuse or I look like an ass and drink.”

He laughed. “Maybe we should slow down on the drinks, wait to see how much they’ll effect you. Wouldn’t want you getting sick in my cabin.”

“Ah, how sweet. If I didn’t know better I’d say that you cared.” Alina smiled back at him. She knew he didn’t - not yet, at least. He didn’t even really trust her, there was no way that he would be caught by a pretty Grisha face. Not when he had grown up around them, was still surrounded by people much prettier than herself.

“I’m almost offended that you think that I wouldn’t care about a woman such as yourself, Alina.”

“You’d be a fool to care about me so quickly.”

He shrugged. “Well, you’re not wrong. Now, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“There’s not a lot to tell. I lived in a border town for my early years before my family was killed in an attack, and then I was brought to Keramzin where I lived for years, until…”

“Keramzin? You crossed the Fold to get a chance to serve with the infamous Sturmhond?” He was preening, she knew, grinning even while his eyes were too sharp to be anything but calculating.

Alina smiled at him. “Pretty much. Me and Mal left Keramzin together, and I practiced my summoning along the way until we were sure that we could cross the Fold with the bit of money that we had earned.”

“I  _ was _ thinking that you’re a bit young to be one of the Darkling’s spies…”

“Well, I’d certainly hope so. The man is supposed to be awful, but I really hope he wouldn’t be so bad as to use younger people.” Even if she knew that he was. That he’d used Genya at least, probably since she had come to him with her Tailoring abilities.

Sturmhond laughed, and Alina smiled. They conversed for a while, before eventually she felt her drinks start really hitting her. As she had told him, she was an awful lightweight, and after just the few that she had taken she felt like her mind was buzzing as she talked.

And yet, at least to her, he seemed unaffected. His cheeks didn’t flush like hers did, his laughs didn’t get any louder, he didn’t even seem to lose an ounce of his suave personality.

But when he suggested that they continue their game, she shrugged with a confidence she really shouldn’t have and pushed her glass forward. “Who’s turn is it?”

“I believe it’s your turn to ask a question, sunshine.”

Alina hummed. She was pretty sure it was the other way around, but she shrugged after a moment. “I think… that you’re nowhere near as confident as you think you are.”

“Ah, but that would require a third person, would it not? If you think one thing and I think another…” He grinned at her, infuriating, and she frowned.

“No, like. I don’t think you’re as confident as you put out.”

“I really must refuse this question. No one is ever as confident as they like to make others think.”

“That’s cheating, Sobachka,” she grumbled.

He laughed at her tone. “Puppy? Now that’s just rude, Alina.”

“And you’re a cheater,  _ Niko-” _ She stopped herself again, a sour look on her face. The drinks were loosening her tongue, and she had an awful feeling that this is exactly what he had wanted.

But as she pushed herself away from the table, almost stumbling over her chair, Sturmhond launched forward with enough speed to make his own chair scrape against the floor, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer so that she was bent over the table. She struggled to keep her balance, and she realized that she was much drunker than she had thought.

“I know that you know more than you’re letting on, Alina,” he said, his eyes more heated than she had ever seen them. She was used to a quieter, cold steel edge to his voice. Where had he changed? “How do you know me?”

She sighed and hung her head, close enough that her head nearly brushed against his hand where he held her. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she mumbled.

“Try me.”

“You’ll think I’m insane.”

“And I’m telling you that I’ll at least listen.”

When she looked up again, she found that his eyes were softer. Still wary, but the heat in his eyes had died away. “Nikolai, I… I don’t even know where I should start.”

His grip on her loosened, until his fingers were simply wrapped around her wrist. “Start from where you met me, then.”

“It’s… complicated.”

He circled around the table, dropping into the chair beside hers. “Try anyway.”

“Can’t you wait until I’m not drunk?” She laughed to herself, shaking her head. “Damn you and your mind games…”

“You can at least start now. I’d hope that the drinks make you a bit more honest, sunshine.” He tapped the underside of her chin, making her look up at him.

So Alina took a deep breath, trying to sit up properly. She took a few minutes to gather her thoughts, and shifted a little in her seat until she thought she had enough together to explain.

“I… died. And I think the universe is kind of unhappy with that, because I woke up in the tent me and the other cartographer’s assistants shared in the First Army. We were supposed to be crossing the Fold, but I thought that I would be able to summon enough light to save us, and I died on the Fold. And then I woke up years earlier, when me and Mal were still at Keramzin, and so I got him to leave with me. To come here, to find you again.”

Sturmhond blinked, and the thoughtful expression that came over him was so much like Nikolai that she nearly started crying. “So you’re telling me that the universe, somehow, slingshotted you back through time to a random point in your life because it doesn’t like that you… died.”

She nodded with a slight shrug. “I think I’m supposed to save the Darkling too, but that’s… still up for debate.”

“The Darkling? The universe wants you to save him?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what from, because where I started from I was the one that killed him, but. Yeah.”

He sat back, looking like he had just been hit by a stray bullet, and eventually shook his head. "I've got an insane person on my crew."

"I'm not insane."

"You're drunk, then. And have a remarkable penchant for storytelling."

"You're Nikolai Lantsov, second prince of Ravka. I know that. You're a people pleaser, always know what to say, you cut off a man's finger and fed it to a hungry dog to show your mettle to your crew, and after dinner that night you threw all of it up and cried yourself to sleep." She gained a certain amount of clarity for a moment, clutching at his arm as she stared at him. "You prefer brandy over kvas, the rumors about your parentage get to you more than you let anyone know, and… somewhere along the line, in my past life, I think you loved me. Or you hoped that you would. You wanted to make me Queen."

He stared at her for a while, thinking, before putting a hand over his face. "You're going to have a lot of explaining to do once you sober up, Alina."

"I know," she said miserably. "Just… please don't send me back to Privyet's ship. Not right now, I just… need a nap and some water."

"Well I'm sure as hell not going to let you out of my sight now, sunshine. Not until I know exactly how you know all that about me."

Alina sighed, but nodded slowly. Her head was spinning uncomfortably - not enough that she might be sick, but enough that she really just wanted the ship to stop rocking so much. She let Nikolai hook his hands under her arms and haul her out of her seat, and surprisingly he led her over to his own bunk. It wasn't all that special, it only had a couple more blankets piled onto it than most and maybe a little wider, but when she sank onto it she was grateful.

And then he produced a length of rope, securing her wrists together to keep her from summoning.

"Sorry dear, but I won't be taking chances." It wasn't tight, but it was enough to make her pout and flex her wrists.

"Rude…"

He chuckled lightly. "So mean, I know, it's almost as if I don't trust you."

"Dunno why. I only punched you in the face once." Alina flopped over onto the bunk, face smooshed into the pillows as she stared at him, remembering the face that she had punched had been Nikolai’s. A face that she had missed with an ache for almost exactly a week after every time he visited Keramzin before, when her and Mal had rebuilt. "I think I miss your eyes. They're really pretty, yknow?"

"What, you don't think that I look roguishly handsome enough like this?" Despite his apparent distrust of her, he softened around her as he sat on the edge of the bunk beside her knees.

Alina simply sighed. "Nothing like the Prince Perfect that Mal used to complain about so much," she murmured.

"Prince Perfect, huh? Mal is the one you came with, right?"

"Mhm. He was my husband, once, but I don't think that I can go through the heartbreak I did to get there again."

"Sounds harsh."

"I miss Tolya, and Tamar. Tamar ended up marrying a Squaller from Os Alta, did you know that? A girl named Nadia, they met when I took control of the Grisha. They- all of them saved me so many times, I feel like I never thanked them properly…"

Nikolai patted her side a bit. "Well, maybe you can thank them later. For now, sleep off the drinks, and I'll come back in a little while."

"But…" she whined a bit and attempted to wriggle her way upright, drunk and hands bound. "Wait, stay here with me?"

"Hmm? Why do you want me to stay?"

"I don't… I don't like being alone when I'm drunk." She frowned and at least partially pushed herself up. "And I thought you said that you weren't going to let me out… until you knew."

For several moments, Nikolai stared at her before letting out a sigh. "Alright, I'll just hang around then. But you  _ sleep, _ okay? Save your breath for later."

"Okay…" and Alina laid herself back down, watching as Nikolai poured himself another drink to sip on. She watched his back for a while, listening to him hum that off-tune song of his, until eventually sleep took her.

~~~

She dreamed of a familiar pier, a voice and a smile that was achingly familiar to her not even an arm's length away. They spoke of kisses, of peaceful things, the future and the uncertainty it brought.

Until the shadows came, and from afar Alina watched the Little Palace fall under the weight of fear. She heard the screams from across the lake, felt Nikolai slip away, and saw the chapel become a beacon of light. And then it crumbled, and Alina could feel the weight of the stone, every ton of it resting on her chest at her failure.

~~~

She woke up with a muffled scream, a sob as she pushed the weight on top of her off. But then arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, and she looked to see Nikolai beside her, yawning. The Tailoring that Tolya had done was fading, patches of blonde showing through the red and his nose no longer looking so lumpy.

"Nightmares?" He murmured simply.

She nodded and felt the way her own body shook from the dream, but with her hands still bound she tried to get comfortable. "Why're you laying with me?"

"It's my bed. You slept longer than I thought you would, but I wasn't about to kick you out, so…"

"Oh." She glanced up, registering the fact that it was fully dark now. "Sorry."

"It's fine." He yawned again and tucked his face against her hair. "You might as well go back to sleep, unless you want to get some night practice in."

"It's too risky for that…"

"Then sleep. Or at least rest, and try not to disturb my beauty sleep."

She laughed softly but nodded. "I'll try. Can't guarantee that there won't be any more screaming."

"I mean, I could definitely fall asleep to you saying my name like you were."

Alina looked up at him sharply, ready to snap at him, when she saw his mischievous smirk. "Was- was I really-"

"Just whispering it, don't worry. The crew won't think anything inappropriate happened with us." He grinned and chuckled quietly, patting her shoulder. "But really, get some rest, sunshine."

She huffed a little, but shoved her face against his chest and heard the way his hum echoed through him. It was oddly relaxing, and soon enough she was dozing off once again, her dreams thankfully empty this time.

~~~

In the morning Alina woke up before the prince, able to see the way the fading Tailoring showed more of Nikolai, instead of Sturmhond. One arm Alina was laying on, the other loosely thrown over her waist and one of his legs trapped between both of hers. She certainly had no memory of being so close with anyone but Mal.

But as she shifted around, alleviating the ache in her arms and where her wrists were slowly being rubbed raw by the ropes, Nikolai's eyes slowly blinked open in the low light of his cabin. The hazel of his eyes made her heart clench and she paused, both of them watching each other carefully, unwilling to move too much.

"Well good morning, sunshine. Sleep well?" He was the one to break the silence between them.

"I… yeah. Well enough, I think."

He removed his arm from her waist, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from her face - part of her still found the brown odd after so long of seeing the pure white of it. "Are you ready to tell me your story, Alina?"

"I don't know if I can, Nikolai. It's dangerous." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "If the Darkling finds me, and he finds out that you know the things I do, he'd… he'd torture you, until he found what it is he wants. It doesn't matter that you're a prince, once he has what he wants he'll be powerful enough to overthrow Os Alta."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because I've seen it. I… was almost a part of it, he nearly enslaved me. He entered the Fold and destroyed Novokribirsk to make an example to the Shu Han and the Fjerdians." She put her bound hands on his cheeks, staring at him, taking in this in-between Nikolai. "I can't let him turn you into a monster again."

He hummed quietly in thought. "Well that sounds concerning. What kind of monster did he turn me into?"

Alina shuddered to think of it again, his hazel eyes turned black, his beauty turned into something haunting, terrifying. "You looked almost like the volcra. But it was still you, it was…"

"Huh. So a literal monster, not just a 'turned to the dark side' monster? Interesting." Nikolai gave her one of his quirky grins and she nearly laughed. "I still don't know how I'm supposed to believe you though…"

"I know things that I logically shouldn't. I came here straight from Keramzin, before that I was a young child whose family was killed in a border village. I've been a nobody my entire life until now, I've only managed to hide myself from the Darkling because I didn't dare use my summoning much before crossing the Fold." Alina shifted so that she was propped up on one arm, staring down at him slightly. "And if you throw me into the sea for lying to you, then I'll have to do this all over again."

"Well that doesn't seem like it's much risk to you, then. Why come to me anyway, when it's the Darkling that you're supposed to save?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Well… I don't actually know if it's the Darkling that I'm supposed to save. Every time I've died, a voice just tells me that I have to save 'him'."

"So specific."

"I know." She gave him a wry smile and shrugged. "But the Darkling is the only one I can think of that would be important enough that the universe would slingshot me back in time. But I don't know, maybe it's Harshaw. Or maybe Stigg, or Sergei, or…" she swallowed thickly, thinking of the list of names that seemed to stretch forever. Names painted into a wall in red. "There were so many that we lost," she whispered.

"I feel like I should be offended that you don't think I'm important enough for the universe to care." Nikolai drew her down again as he saw her distress, seeming to know just how much his closeness meant to her.

Alina buried her head against his shoulder with a quiet sniffle of tears she was trying so hard to keep back. "You're too clever to need saving, Nikolai."

"Well I'm glad that someone thinks so."

Then there was a knock at the door, and he sighed, sitting up finally to hover over her for a few moments. "I can't believe that I'm saying this, but… I believe you. Mostly. I still want to hear what I can of your stories, and I need some proof of this life, but…" he brushed a hand over her cheek, watching the way her eyes fluttered before he took hold of the ropes around her wrists. He had them unknotted in a few seconds, leaving her skin clear, if a little red.

"Thank you, Nikolai," she murmured.

He gave her a grin that felt all too familiar. "You're really going to have to work on keeping to Sturmhond, sunshine. The moment we were alone you couldn't help yourself."

Alina huffed as whoever was at the door knocked again. Nikolai called them in, and Tolya stepped through the door, freezing as he saw Alina.

"Don't worry, she… she knows." Nikolai waved a dismissive hand. "You're free to work, Tolya."

The big Shu nodded quietly, setting down his things at the table as Nikolai joined him. Alina laid down, idly rubbing at her sore wrists as she stared at the ceiling. She wondered if Tolya had to do this every morning, or if it was an every-other day thing like Genya had done. Would it stay as long if the Tailor wasn't as experienced or skilled?

But eventually Tolya finished and quickly excused himself, and Sturmhond again came to stand over her with his fox grin. "Getting comfortable in my bed, Alina? Are you planning on staying?"

"I don't think I should, but it  _ is _ comfortable. Unless you have objections to make."

"I'm not sure that I do. Unless your once-husband is going to get jealous and cause a scene, that is." He stepped back and turned away, hunting through some drawers for a clean shirt, since he had slept in his. Alina was sure that she wasn't looking the best either. And yet her eyes followed his movements as he shuffled out of his old shirt and into a new one. Then he changed his pants and she had the grace to look away then, closing her eyes until he spoke again. "You just drank too much and fell asleep here, alright? Nothing more."

Alina nodded with a rather convincing yawn. "I can do that. When will I be joining you on this ship, though?"

"Same as I told you. I want you to practice before we go after a large group like you want to, and if you can prove yourself to be good help then I'll transfer you onto the Volkvolny myself."

"Alright."

"No telling anyone about this, alright? And no drinking for you, if it loosens up your lips that much." He grinned at her a bit meanly as he threw his frock coat on.

"Rude."

"Only a little. Now c'mon, up you get, you have a crew to return to."

She sighed, hauling herself to her feet. "Fine, fine."

~~~

As she guessed, Mal seemed rather upset by the fact that she had spent the night in Sturmhond's bunk, so she nicely left out the fact that he had been in the bunk with her for half the night.

Outside of him, no one seemed especially concerned or surprised. She was the most powerful and unique Grisha in the fleet, of course she'd be the one that caught Sturmhond's attentions.

And yet he stayed distant for now, disappearing into the wide expanse of the sea afterwards without so much as a word. Not that she was surprised, though. He still didn't entirely trust her, and she didn't expect him to.

But eventually, she was determined to get there. She'd find a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LoVe NiKoLAi oKaY my heart just can't fucking handle it.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter is uh. Gonna start dunking into Spicy Times™ so the rating will be bumped up accordingly. At this moment, the word count for this fic is currently at about 48,000 words so. I've... almost completed Nanowrimo in the wrong month, in about two and a half weeks.
> 
> Currently I'm also writing chapter 10, along with also writing a smaller series that... well, to any who might be following this fic, I think you'll like it once I finish this and get onto the next. Time gets fucking WONKY with that one.
> 
> And as always, theories, feedback, and general excited screaming is always welcome and encouraged in the comments! I thrive off of the words of praise from strangers.


	6. Onwards, Somewhere New Awaits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina becomes a true privateer finally, and as her powers grow, so do her affections towards an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats, we've officially gotten to the point where the rating for this fic goes from T to E so like. Whoops, there's smut! If that's not your thing, it's at the very end so once it gets to that, you can just skip to the end and you honestly won't miss that much.
> 
> ALSO since I know that someone is going to be asking about it at some point - in this fic, names are VERY important. I've been writing in such a way that aliases (most notably Sturmhond vs Nikolai and the Darkling vs Aleksander) show the kind of personality that is being perceived by Alina. I'm sure that some of you have already caught onto this, but a lot of this is how I think Alina's thought processes happen. Using Nikolai's real name instead of Sturmhond comes about when she's seeing sides of him that are more recognizable to her as the man that she knew before, where using Sturmhond instead of Nikolai comes around when she sees a privateer instead of a prince.
> 
> Anyways, I'll get out of ya'll's hair now so you can read the actual chapter. It's a long one! 7.000 words instead of the normal 4/5.000

Her first attack was, in short, terrifying. Sturmhond had found a group of five merchant ships sailing from Shu Han to Fjerda, and as per his promise he had the Volkvolny and one other ship to take the five, a fight that should have been amazingly unfair if it hadn't been for the faith he put in Alina.

She wasn’t about to give him a reason to not trust her, so she hid the ship that Privyet captained, straining herself to cover everything from hull to mast, and they had come up on the Shu ships like ghosts. She even covered some of the crew members as they boarded the unsuspecting vessel, giving them the time they needed to ruin the ship and haul their loot back to ship.

Only one ship caused trouble for them, as it sailed away from the massacre that Alina couldn't bear to look at. But they had seen the abilities of a Sun Summoner, and she couldn't let them get away. So she drew in a breath, letting it out slowly as she watched the ship grow smaller. She focused, sensing the light trapped in the ship, grabbing onto it as she swung her arm.

Almost a full kilometer away and the main mast of the ship cracked and tumbled into the water, leaving the ship nearly stranded. Privyet's crew watched silently until the mast fell fully, listened to the crack of sound almost like thunder several seconds later, and then they broke into wild shouts and cheers, howling as the Volkvolny shot forward to apprehend the ship.

And Alina fell to her knees, a wave of exhaustion breaking over her. It was strange, she'd never struggled with the Cut after receiving the stag's amplifier. But without both the collar and the fetter, even one instance of the Cut made her feel as if she had pushed her summoning to the very limit.

She sat against the railing, resting her eyes, when Mal sat beside her with a smile she could feel. "I can't believe it, what  _ was _ that?"

"The Cut. It's… a very advanced thing that only powerful Grisha can do. It's… super tiring, I guess." She yawned and rested her head on his shoulder. "I wasn’t expecting to be so tired."

"Then c'mon, let's get you to your bunk so you can rest." He hefted her up to her feet, and Alina barely opened her eyes as he led her through the ship, accepting the pats on the back and the occasional hug she got from the crew. They all seemed to understand that she was tired though, and let her pass without too much of a hassle.

Then Mal laid her down, tucking her in with a laugh and something about Sturmhond, and she fell asleep in the middle of trying to respond.

~~~

When she woke up next, it was to see Sturmhond's face swimming into view, excitedly chattering to… Tamar?

She let out a groan and his attention snapped to her.

"Ah, Alina! Our little sunburst. How are you feeling?"

"Like it's too fucking early for me to be dealing with you," she grumbled, trying to shove her head under her pillow. Sturmhond simply laughed, pulling the pillow away as she groaned at him.

"Oh, don't be such a moody hen. I think I have some news that you'll enjoy."

"Like what?"

"Like the very, very high number of precious things we now have in our possession. All ready to sell out to the highest bidder."

"Couldn't this wait?" She grunted as she turned over and glared at him, taking in the sight of who was indeed Tamar, with Tolya standing behind her as well. "What's with the crowd?"

"Alina, you've been asleep for a full day and a half. We wanted to make sure that you were alright."

At that, she sat up quickly, regretting it instantly as her vision faded in and out as she wobbled in place. "A- oh, boy-" She felt him place a hand on her back to steady her. "A full day and a half? How did that happen?"

Tamar shrugged. “Dunno. The trick you pulled seemed to have exhausted you completely, so your body probably just needed time to rest. Still, your body needs fuel, so we thought it better to wake you up to get some food into you.”

She nodded. “Ah. Okay. Makes sense. So…”

Tolya nudged his sister to the side, handing over a bowl of soup that she barely registered the scent of before she was gingerly slurping at it, feeling suddenly ravenous. Once she was sure that it wasn’t too hot, she drank down the broth greedily, tilting her head back until the bowl was drained.

“Well, I do suppose a couple days without food makes one rather hungry, hmm?” Sturmhond grinned at her. “I have to say though, seeing the mast of the ship suddenly go down was… an experience.”

“Glad I was suitable amusement,” she said dryly, her stomach growling angrily at the thin food she had been fed. Her body was demanding something more solid.

Tamar grinned. “Well, you certainly gave the crew enough amusement, alright. You should have seen the way they ran when they got to the ship, they thought that we were true devils.”

“Isn’t that what you aspire to be, Tamar?” Alina smiled up at her. She’d missed that Heartrender’s grin on her.

But she raised an eyebrow in confusion. “How did you know my name?”

“Ah. Sturmhond was telling me about you and your brother. Tolya, right?” She nodded to the giant of a man, smiling at both of them as she lied as smoothly as she was able. Already she could feel the curious look Sturmhond shot her way, likely wondering at her ability to be so smooth with her false words. The lies would catch up to her eventually, but for now she had a bit of leeway with the privateer prince.

But Tamar simply shrugged. "Well alright then."

Tolya gave her a wary look though. "You know the captain, then."

"Not as thoroughly as I would want to, but enough." Alina smiled at him. "I don't mean him any harm, Tolya. I never have."

Beside her, Sturmhond laughed. "Now Alina, if you were going to go around throwing out innuendos, you could have at least warned me. I do have a reputation to uphold."

"I- oh." She colored slightly, shaking her head. "That wasn't what I meant!"

Tamar gave her a grin, mischievous as it could possibly be. "Oh really? You mean to say that you  _ didn't _ spend a night in the captain's bunk with him?"

Alina buried her face in her hands, cursing her own wording. "All of you are awful," she groaned, knowing that even Tolya was grinning over the two other's heads.

"You don't mind so much, do you?" Sturmhond patted her shoulder and stood up with a chuckle. "Now come on, let's get you over to the Volkvolny and we can get my chef cook you up some real food."

Alina frowned and swung her legs over the side of her bunk, staggering to her feet for just a moment before they gave out beneath her and dumped her back into bed. "I'm afraid that you might have to carry me across to the Volkvolny. My legs seemed to have turned to jelly in the last day and a half, like Ana Kuya always said they would."

"Ohh, are you  _ flirting, _ dear Sun Summoner?" Again, Sturmhond grinned at her before waving a hand, and before Alina could even process it, she was being scooped up into Tolya's arms, which was… definitely a different experience. Especially as her stomach turned, almost flipping inside out to reject the broth she had downed so quickly. She groaned and Tolya grinned slightly, apparently revelling in her discomfort.

She missed the ever-faithful twins that were decidedly  _ nicer _ to her, she thought sourly.

Sturmhond led the way, the crew parting with worried faces as their Sun Summoner came through, carried by a giant and looking about as green as a cabbage. Mal was among them, though she caught him throwing a sullen glare at the privateer, before Privyet shouted for them all to get back to work. She watched Mal go, scampering up into the rigging as fast as his limbs could take him, and sighed to herself.

Tolya was as surefooted moving across the gangplank as ever, even as the sight of water alarmingly far below between the ships made her stomach again go for a loop.

“Why are you bringing me over, again?” She croaked. “Couldn’t you just bring your chef over to my ship?”

“He’s very picky on where he works, I apologize,” Sturmhond called, sounding completely unapologetic. But once they got to his cabin once again, all four of them sat down around his table as he kicked his heels up onto the top of it. “So, Alina, I’ve decided that I do in fact want you to tell me your story. I think that I’ve put enough thought into it, and if there’s something that we need to know about the Darkling for future reference, I’d rather know it than be caught off guard.”

She glared at him before resting her head down on the table, stretching her arms out in front of her with a sigh. “Good to know that you trust the twins enough still, I suppose.”

“Of course. They help me keep my identity hidden on the ship.”

“Since Tolya is your Tailor, or as close as you can get.”

Tolya made a deep rumbling sound like a growl in his chest.

“I know, you’re not a Tailor. I don’t mean to offend… but really, it shouldn’t be offensive at all.” Alina sat up and leaned her head onto her hand, glancing at him tiredly. “One of the best people I’ve ever known is a Tailor. The skill is a good one to have.”

That seemed to settle him, though he still threw her a cautiously dark look as he nodded. And Sturmhond spoke up again.

“Now, your story?”

Again, she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling dizzy still. “You want it all, from the beginning?”

He nodded silently, eyes watching her carefully.

“Food first.”

“Chef is cooking right now.”

“And I’m telling you that if I stay upright for much longer without food, I’m either going to be sick or I’m going to pass out again. Fair?” She drew light to her, her palms glowing for a short moment before dying out again as her body protested at even the slight strain of it. But it was good that it wasn’t gone again, that she wasn’t about to go another forty years without the satisfaction of her power.

Sturmhond sighed, getting to his feet and walking over to a small cabinet. For whatever reason, he had a small stash of hardtack which he tossed onto the table. “Good enough?”

Alina stared at it for a moment, shrugged, and grabbed a bit to munch on, letting it start filling her stomach properly. “Well. Despite my literal age, I’ve lived through about fifty-three years of life. I suppose I’m up to more like fifty-four now based on all my recent adventures running around in this fleet.”

Tamar frowned, sitting forward to put her elbows on the table. “How does that work? What do you mean by your ‘literal’ age?”

“My literal age is… oh, somewhere around sixteen at the moment.” Alina closed her eyes for a moment. “But I’ve lived three other past lives now. I’ve fought the Darkling, I’ve killed him. I’ve seen things that I’d rather never see again.”

“Three… past lives?” Tolya spoke up now, as Sturmhond raised an eyebrow at her. Probably surprised at the number of lives presented.

But she nodded in answer. “Three. My first started in Kribirsk, or at least the important part started there. I was in the military, a cartographer’s assistant. We were supposed to cross the Fold, but not even halfway across our skiffs were attacked. Me and Mal were attacked by a volcra, but in the moment, I discovered that I was a Sun Summoner.” She opened her palms, letting light shine out now that she had eaten something. “After that, I was dragged in front of the Darkling, and shipped out to Os Alta to train there with the other Grisha. While I was there, the Darkling tried to seduce me, to break my will to his.”

Sturmhond raised an eyebrow. “The Darkling tried to seduce you? I’m surprised, I didn’t think the man had heart enough for that.”

“He has hundreds of years of acting behind him to help in the endeavor,” she stated flatly.

“Hundreds? How old is the man?”

“I’m not sure,” Alina admitted. “But he is far older than you think. The Black Heretic that created the Fold is the same man as the Darkling today, he’s faked his death countless times since the creation of his mistake.”

Tamar let out a low whistle. “Saints… how?”

“He’s the most powerful Grisha the world has known.” Alina shrugged. “Well, second only to his mother, actually. But she never uses her summoning, prefers to hide herself away at the Little Palace.”

“His mother?” Sturmhond leaned forward. “A monster like the Black Heretic actually has one of those?”

She laughed. “Careful, Nikolai, Baghra might hear you.”

He went a little paler. “Baghra is the Darkling’s mother? Saints, no wonder she’s so bitter.”

“You have no idea,” Alina said, laughing a little harder now before she quieted down, staring down at her hands. “She sacrificed her life to save our cause. Threw herself from the ledge of the Spinning Wheel to make sure that we could escape from the Darkling.”

“Ah. You know about the Spinning Wheel?” Sturmhond linked his fingers together with what seemed almost like a pout on his lips. “There really is no keeping secrets with you, is there?”

Alina gave him a cheeky grin, though the memories whirling in her mind were less than lighthearted. “Nope. Not even that iron deathtrap of a lift that you seem to love so much.”

“Hey. The lift is an amazing piece of technological artwork, sunshine. You wouldn’t understand until you saw the inside of such a machine-”

“No thank you,” she said with a shudder. “I’d rather not be any closer than necessary to it.”

He sighed, putting a hand to his chest in false pain. “Fine, I see how it is.”

Tamar chuckled quietly to herself. “But… how have you lived so many lives?”

“I don’t know,” Alina said quietly. “Every time I’ve been sent back to the beginning, I hear a voice telling me to save  _ him. _ But no explanation on who  _ he _ is for me to figure out. I assume whatever voice is telling me this means the Darkling, because I killed him, but I don’t know  _ how. _ And based on the fact that me dying before him has still sent me back, it’s either a completely different person or I have to save his moral compass or something, which is going to be a much larger chore.” She sighed, putting her head in her hands with a grimace. “I don’t know.”

“Sounds like a headache.”

“It is.”

Sturmhond opened his mouth to say something when their food arrived. And then the rest of her time was spent dining and moving on to lighter subjects. By the time Alina actually filled up her stomach, she was getting sleepy once more, her body demanding rest once more.

And Sturmhond got her a bunk on his own ship this time, declaring her a part of his crew.

~~~

Since her first technical time using the Cut, Alina found that her power seemed to multiply on itself. It was becoming harder and harder to truly push herself to her limits, to expand her power farther.

Sturmhond made sure to put her abilities to good use, though. The attacks he ran were devastatingly successful, no sailors left from enemy ships to spread the word of a Sun Summoner on the sea. Occasionally he would have her hang back to have an excuse to let a few people go free, to spread the word of his control of the sea, but more often than not Alina was at the bow of the Volkvolny, hiding it from view until the ship could wreak havoc upon their enemies.

She got used to seeing blood as well, though the thought of so much death upon the ships she helped destroy still made her stomach turn unpleasantly.

Tamar and Tolya taught her how to fight, at least more effectively than she could before. Knives, swords, axes, pistols and even rifles. She trained with all of them, and though she would never be as masterful with axes as Tamar, she did get the knack of fighting with a sword.

Recently though, she’d been missing Mal. She’d left him behind on Privyet’s ship, among the crew there, and hadn’t really had the time or ability to talk to him again. As the weeks inched by, she found herself leaning against the railing of the ship, looking out over the water and wondering where her sweetheart could be on all that blue.

She’d told him her complete story, bit by bit over dinners that he insisted on sharing with her. He knew the dangers of the Darkling. Yet despite that, she could feel Sturmhond gearing up towards something. It would probably be nothing that she would like, of course, but she had learned long ago that it was near impossible to turn Nikolai off of something he was convinced he had thought through.

“What are you thinking about now, sunshine?” He was standing beside her now, staring out at the wide expanse of the True Sea with her.

She shrugged. “Not much. Just…”

He bumped his shoulder against hers. “Hmm?”

“The Darkling. Mal. You… all of it, that I’ve lived through. All of the stuff that no one will ever understand.” She stared down at the water as the ship slipped through it, currently headed to Kerch for a bit of trading off of some acquired goods.

Sturmhond glanced around to make sure that no one was close enough to hear them, before carefully pulling her against his side. She missed the casual contact that her and Mal had, the way that he would affectionately jerk her into a hug and ruffle her hair as he told her about his day.

Still, she leaned into him and closed her eyes as he spoke, trying to silence the startlingly lonely echo in her mind.

“I think that I need to return to Os Alta,” he murmured to her. “At least for a time. I’ve been away from court for too long, I need to make sure that I’m still at least somewhat in the loop of everything.”

Alina smiled a little despite her thoughts. “Oh? You’re not going to ask me to be your Queen?”

“I’ll only ask you that if you want me to,” he said with a chuckle. “Which, I’m sorry if I’ve misunderstood, but you don’t seem to be terribly interested in leading the country with me, even if I can find a way around Vasily.”

“And if you could?” She stared out at the water still, wishing there was someone that she could share the feeling of this howlingly empty void in her with. “If you did work around Vasily, who would be your Queen?”

Sturmhond shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sure I’d come up with something though.”

“What will the crew be doing without you?” She looked up at him finally, a silent question between them quietly crackling in the air.  _ What will I do without you? _

He turned, tugging her closer so that she could turn and press her face to his shoulder. “You’ll be doing the same old stuff. I’m putting Privyet in charge of the Volkvolny for a while, he’ll make sure everyone keeps busy.”

“Does that mean that our dinner dates are coming to an end?” Alina smiled to herself, against his ridiculous teal frock coat.

“Only for a week or two, sunshine,” he said with a grin she could hear in his voice. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She sighed dramatically - she’d been picking some things up from him. “And I suppose that I’ll simply have to make sure no one runs off with your ship?”

“Of course. I can’t have someone stealing you away for their own.” He drew back, his fingers trailing over her cheek to brush her hair behind her ear. “That’d be very bad for business.”

But there was a quietness in his voice that betrayed him, a quiet sigh behind his words that said,  _ I’ll miss you. _ She remembered that same feeling in him when she had rejected his final offer of marriage. Alina wasn’t sure when they had gotten so close, when memories of care had started to blend with her everyday life.

“Is there something that you want, Nikolai?” She whispered to him, closing her eyes for a moment.

He leaned closer, and she could feel his breath brush her lips. “Come lay with me, Alina.”

She shuddered, gripping his hand as he offered it, and let him pull her along to the door of his cabin. From there they tripped over each other’s feet, laughing quietly like a young couple, until they tripped into his bunk and Alina pulled Nikolai over her, kissing him softly.

But it was Sturmhond that swept her hair back, tugging lightly. A charming privateer, looking at her with a quiet sort of wonder that made her chest ache.

“When did you fall?” She murmured. When Nikolai had fallen in love with her, or at least started to, was still a mystery to her. She’d never known why, or how.

He kissed her in return, cupping her cheek with one hand. “I’m not sure.”

But it was because she knew him, she realized. Because Alina knew the true him, she knew the little chips in his armor where words could hurt. And in that regard, she was desperately alone. No one would ever know her again, not ever. They would never know the pain she had gone through, the things she had done out of necessity.

Not the pain of plunging a knife into the chest of two of the men that she had loved. No one would ever be witness to that again, not in any of her lives to come. She refused to do so again.

Sturmhond wiped away her tears as they came, muddy green eyes searching hers. Whether or not he understood her pain, he pressed apologies to her lips, her cheeks, her throat.

And then he held her, as she collapsed in on herself and shuttered through her broken heart. He drowned in her tears alongside her, not quite silent as he drew the covers over the two of them and played childish games to make the pain disappear for a moment at a time, using her light for amusement.

He couldn't understand why she laughed even while fresh tears swam in her eyes, couldn’t understand that the reason she cried was because Nikolai had ways known just what to say, just how to fix something. And even if he didn't erase the pain, the way he kissed her loosened the shard of ice lodged in her heart, made it more bearable. She rested her head against his chest to listen to the steady thump of his heartbeat and fell asleep that first night wrapped up in the blankets with him, overheating and sweating with all the clothing between them.

And in the morning, when the red in his hair was fading and his muddy green eyes had already faded to their perfect hazel, Alina talked about Keramzin. The way that her and Mal had rebuilt it, the way that it had become a sweeter place than before. She told him what she remembered of Ana Kuya, her strict ways and willingness to use the switch on disobedient children. She talked of unimportant things, the things she had told no one else before in this new life of hers.

She wished he could stay with her for a while longer, continue to shower her with distraction and care, but he did have a ship to take care of. So she watched as Tolya came in, glancing between the two as if to make sure he hadn't walked in on something he shouldn't have, and he set to work. Nikolai again became Sturmhond, a coolness coming over him like a wave of winter waters, and he stepped out of the cabin after pressing a kiss to Alina's forehead.

~~~

A week after that, and Nikolai was headed back to Os Alta. The crew was given excuses from Privyet and the Heartrender twins, stories of Sturmhond going on a secret sort of mission that involved the Kerch and Fjerdan trading lines. Alina was left knowing that it would be a long few weeks before he returned, trying to settle her annoyance at the feeling. She had years and years to live, she shouldn’t exactly be in a hurry.

But right now she really wished that she could settle the warring in her belly when she caught sight of Mal, who Privyet had brought along with him for the time being. Maybe he'd thought that Alina would appreciate seeing a familiar face around the deck, but all in all it sent her stomach into a set of long, uncomfortable loops every time Mal's gaze hovered over her too long. He was beautiful like this, his skin tanned and his eyes a brighter blue than she'd expected in the sunlight reflecting off the sea. The crew here loved him as well, the way he'd point off the side of the ship with a shout just a moment before a pod of whales breached the surface, the way he laughed so easily and fit in just where he was.

One night Mal came to her, sitting on her bunk beside her while his hands idly tied and undid knots in the length of rope he was holding.

"I've missed you," he murmured.

Alina sighed, leaned against him as she closed her eyes and quietly cursed the way her heart skipped between men. "I know," she whispered in return. "I did too."

"How have you been here?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as he abandoned his rope for now.

"I've been doing just fine," she mumbled. "The crew is just as energetic and loyal as Privyet's, and I think Sturmhond has taken a liking to having me around."

Mal hummed, silent for several moments before he hooked a finger underneath her chin, pulling her up so that he could kiss her.

And oh, she kissed him in return. She'd missed him, in all the months that she had spent with the Darkling is Os Alta, in all the weeks that they had been separated by the sea. But even as the feel of his lips were so familiar, she was painfully aware that this wasn't  _ her _ Mal. The kiss they shared wasn't like the soft, calming things that they had settled into after their battle on the Fold. It wasn't the needy, bruising kisses they had shared in the very darkest of nights when memories threatened to overtake them.

This was… desperate, almost possessive. It spoke too much of a Mal she had seen with rumpled clothing, dark bags shadowing his face even as the thrill of a fight blazed in his eyes as he kissed another woman.

She pulled away from his grasp with a quiet sigh, though she leaned her head against his shoulder still. A shoulder she could still cry on, a shoulder to lean on when she wasn't sure who to trust.

"Alina…"

"I love you," she whispered. "But I can't."

She heard him swallow thickly. "What do you mean?"

"I can't explain right now, but… later, maybe. I hope you'll understand." She lifted her head, placing her hands on both sides of his face as she kissed him again, softly this time. "I have to let you go."

"Why?" He held her a bit tighter, leaning his forehead against hers as he frowned. "If you love me, then...?"

She pulled a hand away from him to brush away the tears that came to her eyes. Her precious Mal, her eternal sweetheart, her otkazat’sya love.

"Because I have to make a choice, and-" an unexpected sob shook her, as Mal's eyes widened and he pulled her flush against him, stroking her hair as she cried. He didn't distract her from her tears like Nikolai had, he didn't crack a joke to try to lighten up her mood. He simply held her, face pressed against her hair as if he was trying to memorize the scent of it.

"... And if I don't stop this now, it will only be more heartbreak in the future, Mal," she said, once the tears subsided enough for her to talk without stuttering through her words. "I don't want that for you. I want you to be happy."

"But I'm happy with you," he replied fiercely. "Whatever choice you have to make, why does it have to end this?"

Because she would likely be Queen one day. Because she wouldn't have him as the captain of her guard, not again, not when she had seen the way it had torn him apart the first time.

"Because, I've chosen someone else," she murmured.

Alina felt the way he tensed up, the way his breath turned just a hair shorter as if he was getting ready to throw himself to his feet.

"Sturmhond," he said. A fact, not a question.

And she could only nod shortly, knowing that he'd be upset no matter what she said. She'd just have to leave him with himself through it, as she learned with all the years they had been married, when they had arguments. Eventually he would forgive her for this, hopefully, but it would be a painful wait.

Despite that, he only held onto her tighter as they sat there together, a couple of orphans floating on the sea. For a moment she could pretend that she didn't have so many years behind her, that this Mal was the same one that she had loved for so long.

In the morning he finally moved away, and Alina felt as if her breath was being crushed out of her with every step he took away from her.

~~~

Mal spent every night with her that he could, until Sturmhond returned in all his crooked glory. A quiet way to possibly change her mind, try to convince her otherwise from her choice without getting so wordy about it. They both knew that if Sturmhond claimed her for his own, he wasn't likely to share. But Alina didn't have the heart to send him away, not after everything.

When they were saying goodbye though, Mal took her hand and gently bumped his head against her own, a farewell that made her heart ache with familiarity. "I'll see you around," he said, only to her.

She smiled as much as she could and nodded, before he stepped away to pass back over to Privyet's ship. And then she was aware of Sturmhond sauntering up to her, an insufferable grin on his face as he swept her into a hug, swinging her around once before kissing her soundly.

The crew cheered, whistles and jeering howls - it was almost a celebration, seeing the two favorite people of the ship be so close.

No one had paid attention to the moment her and Mal had stolen.

No one but Nikolai, ever the jealous lover.

It was odd, how she seemed to attract those types when she had seen many couples in all her years open their relationship to others. But still, she returned the kiss with a lightness that she didn't think he was entirely expecting, trying her best to ignore the way her heart clenched when she saw Mal turn his back on the show. Sturmhond drew back with a familiar smirk, taking her hand as he murmured to her.

"Should we take this to my cabin, sunshine?"

She rolled her eyes. "You just love to give the crowds the wrong idea, don't you?"

"Who said it was the wrong one?" He winked at her, taking both of her hands now and leading her towards his cabin as he raised his voice. "Now, your captain is weary of travel, so I think I might take a rest from the lot of you… except for you, dear Alina, never you."

The crew whooped and hollered for a moment, but they didn't pester the two of them too much. To them, Sturmhond had as good as given them some time to rest and relax themselves, with some allowance to party and make some noise to supposedly cover up anything that might come from the captain's quarters. And as Sturmhond drew her in through the door, pressing her back against it with surprising force, she… had a feeling that maybe, he hadn't just been joking about his intentions.

"I missed you," he mumbled against her lips, sounding almost surprised. As if he would be immune to the effects of loneliness, as if Sturmhond, hero of Ravka, wouldn't be able to be touched by such things. "I kept wondering if it would be too soon to return, thinking of you…"

Alina shivered against him, his hands wandering to her hips, her waist, gliding up her sides and back down. He always knew just what to say in each moment, and it seemed that this was no different. But it also reminded her that most things that this privateer prince did were carefully put into place, perfectly set and readied to tumble just the way he wanted.

"I know what you're doing, Nikolai," she said, hands gripping into the lapels of his frock coat. His lips found her jaw, tracing a damp line down her neck to her collarbone, and he hummed in response. "I should ruin you for your actions."

"Mmm,  _ please _ do," he said with an appalling, ridiculously sultry tone to his voice. "I fear that I'd rather enjoy it, and I think your lesson in humility would all be for naught."

"You're insufferable."

"Aren't I always, my dear?"

"Absolutely. I just have to remind you every once in a while."

"Or my ego would grow too large?" She could feel his smile against her skin as he hooked his fingers into the neckline of her shirt to give himself more access.

"Exactly," Alina breathed as his teeth grazed across her pulse. It took her a moment to find her voice again, a reaction that she was sure wasn't missed by Nikolai. "I don't see why you feel the need to stake your claim in front of everyone."

A switch seemed to flick in him, and Nikolai nearly growled as he sucked a dark mark into her neck. "Is it wrong for me to, Alina?"

She let out a soft groan and tugged at his hair. "When you do it just to make Mal jealous, yes."

He hummed, tongue tracing around the mark he had left. "What happened with you two while I was gone?"

"Nothing," she murmured, breath hitching as he pushed her shirt up to spread his fingers over her belly. "We kissed, and I told him I had chosen someone else."

Nikolai grunted, drawing her shirt over her head before his lips found her shoulder and he pressed his body close to hers once more. Then he was kissing her lips, kissing her into oblivion as he held her close, only breaking away for seconds at a time to mumble words against her lips. "And I suppose I am the one you chose?"

And in a hazy way, it occurred to her how desperate he seemed, though it wasn't in the way his voice shifted and strained. It was the way he touched her, the way his hands shuttered up and down her torso even as he pressed close enough to make the movement unnecessarily hard for him. And she realized the weight behind her own words - to choose Nikolai with the history that she had told him would be to hold an odd sort of power over him. The power of  _ knowing _ him, possibly better than anyone else ever had before, and still choosing him.

He had once been this quietly desperate as he pressed the Lantsov emerald into her palm, hoping that their marriage could become something more than political. And again, even after she had become powerless, no longer a Saint of the people.

So Alina closed her eyes, dragging him closer by the hair, daring to take control of the kiss. She felt him take a sharp breath in, before he returned her passion with a heady fervor that she could feel. It turned into an oddly sweet, playful back-and-forth between them, until Alina shoved his coat off his shoulders and tugged his shirt away from his body.

When their torsos were both bare, pressed together from shoulder to hip, they both paused for just a moment. Alina could appreciate the way Nikolai's body felt against her own, each soft dip and curve and hard edge of him.

"Alina," he murmured, lips unsuspectingly soft against her own.

She smiled. "I did choose you, Nikolai."

And he kissed her again, gentle this time. His hands spread over her skin, brushing over where the stag's collar had once rested. Then he let his hands fall to the waistband of her pants, slipping them down her hips as she arched towards him. Lips and tongue and teeth teased at her throat, dropping further down until his mouth found her breast, licking at her nipples. He led her to step out from her pants, and then it was a flurry of movement to find his bunk, where he laid her down with a groan against the center of her chest.

“Saints,” she said, with a curse upon her lips as he kissed his way down. Nikolai’s teeth dug into her hip and she squirmed, before his hands came to hold her thighs down.

He sucked another mark into the inside of her thigh, and then another, and another so close to her core that a whine worked its way up her throat. She swore he heard her mumble her name under his breath just the moment before his tongue pressed into her, working her open.

Alina moaned at the feeling - this was something her and Mal didn’t exactly do often. They stuck with normal things that they were both comfortable with, their sex usually a soft and gentle rocking, maybe a round where her nails dug in and his teeth caught on her skin, but they had been through enough pain for their lifetimes. They hadn’t explored much into the rougher side of things.

But now, with Nikolai’s grip hard on her thighs, her hands in his hair to direct him just where she wanted him, Alina found that she wanted nothing more than to be marked - to see the bites and the hickies for days. So she shuddered for him, rocking her hips against his mouth, and Nikolai hummed in a sort of delight to get such reactions out of her.

Then he slipped a finger into her, and a second one after that, and suddenly she was rocketing towards her finish with a shudder as she cried out into the air above her.

Nikolai kept his face buried between her thighs as her legs tightened around his head, his mouth still working at her as she whined and moaned and tightened her grip in his hair. But when her orgasm finally slipped away, leaving her in a wonderful glow of feeling, she felt Nikolai drag himself up to lay beside her.

He nestled his face against her shoulder, taking a deep breath. Already the air smelled like sex, which Alina supposed wasn’t helped by the fact that Nikolai had seemed to insistent on licking up every drop of her mess as he worked between her legs.

“Did you want me to take care of you?” She gave him a gently teasing smile, and he rocked his hips against her leg as he returned the smile, a hungry glint in his eye.

“That would be greatly appreciated, darling.”

Alina hooked fingers into his belt loops, tugging lightly. “Then you have to get undressed.”

Quietly he groaned, but he wriggled around enough to eventually kick off his pants and underthings, before rather suddenly rolling the two of them so that Alina sat astride his hips, hands planted on his chest.

Nikolai took hold of her then, leading her hips in their movements as she got used to the rocking motion that made him sigh and close his eyes as his lips parted in pleasure.

She was just starting to work up to her second orgasm when he angled his hips just enough to thrust into her, his cock filling her up rather suddenly as she gasped.

“Alina…” Her name was a groan in his throat, and again he led her hips as she moaned in return at the feeling, overwhelming pleasure crashing over her with each movement between the two of them.

But when they settled into a proper rhythm, their bodies rocking together in time with small, slick sounds between their pants and moans, she found her ecstasy. Nikolai pressed a thumb to her clit and she bowed over him, lips crashing together in a messy kiss as she keened against his mouth. His hips snapped up as he bit at her lips, nearly drawing blood as he growled back to her, desperate for his own release.

She buried her face against his shoulder, his grip bruisingly tight on her. “Ah- hah, fuck,  _ Nikolai-” _

There was just barely a pause long enough for him to flip them over once again, leading her legs around his waist as he continued fucking into her. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head up to kiss her, again and again, tongue pressing in through her lips with a needy moan - from who she wasn’t entirely sure.

Then again a finger found her clit, and with a breathless shout she was coming, her head spiraling out of control with the feeling of Nikolai’s body shuddering against hers.

Alina wasn’t entirely sure how long they stayed there - all she knew was that there was a rapidly cooling mess on her belly, and Nikolai’s breath was racing across her skin as they both came down from their highs.

But when he pulled away, he just barely stumbled as he stepped from the bed to get something for them to clean up with.

So she watched him move, a faint smile on her lips, her eyes fluttering closed in the gentle afterglow. And she thanked whatever power it had been that had sent her back, given her other chances to experience life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OooOOO Alina and Nikolai did the frick frack >0> as always, feedback/theories/screaming is always welcome and encouraged in the comments and in my tumblr asks/messages so like. Talk to me about my stuff and you will actually be my favorite person ever.
> 
> (Feedback is also becoming important to me in particular right now because I'm nervous that I might be taking this in directions where people are gonna get lost so RIP)


	7. Returning Without the First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is good, but eventually something has to go wrong. And when it does, it's only the beginning of something that will follow Alina for the rest of her lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo ho ho and a bottle of oh shit? Anyways it's been four (five?) days since I've updated and I have kind of officially died. I think I've got a final chapter count, maybe... that'll be at the end of the chapter ;) bon voyage~

Time passed startlingly quickly. A year, two, and Alina grew into a hardy privateer with the command of a queen on board. Nikolai joked often that he would have given her a ship of her own if he wasn’t so damn clingy, and she often laughed and told him that she should get Tolya to Tailor her another face so that she could escape onto that other ship.

The Solvolna - a ship with the beauty to rival the Volkvolny that had only recently fallen into his hands. That was the ship that he would have given her, if it wasn’t for their need for each other.

Alina hadn’t seen Mal in quite a while, hadn’t even really thought of him, in quite some time. He was still with Privyet, who hadn’t ever become Sturmhond’s first mate - instead it was a harsh woman by the name of Ilana. Maybe in Alina’s first life, Ilana had already been killed in their cruel battles, or had retired from the fleet with the good graces of her captain.

Either way, the woman was a powerful Tidemaker that had learned how to use her abilities in ways that were startlingly aggressive. Alina had learned quickly after her relationship with Nikolai had truly started that she should never get in the Grisha’s way in a fight.

Not that she ever got close to the fighting either way. Nikolai prefered her staying on their own ship, watching and making sure that no one would harm the crew that stayed behind. She’d never found her taste for violence like the rest of the crew had. Alina was fine standing back until the very end, when the stolen cargo was all loaded up and any survivors were either killed or cautiously allowed to join the crew.

She’d gotten into the habit of leaving the other ships in pieces. The Cut was the only reliable way to quickly expand her power’s reach anymore, her shows of bending light around ships only pushing her so far. Unless she was hiding entire groups of ships, she was stuck focusing her light into glowing arcs of destruction.

Life was good aboard the Volkvolny, even when Nikolai occasionally disappeared to visit his parents in Os Alta. Alina had accompanied him once, though she only went so far as to get him across the Fold on his completed version of the Hummingbird. It had left her wary, old memories again being dredged up in the darkness, but there wasn’t the ugly sense of familiarity that had haunted her when the Darkling had first come to her through the tether that no longer existed between the two of them.

Life was good, with wind in her hair and a warm glow on her skin as she grew stronger. A glow that often followed her even into the shadows between the sheets of Nikolai’s bed, laughter chasing the lips that peppered her neck with sweet kisses.

Life was good, until Nikolai came stumbling back onto the ship, looking as if he was on his feet still only because of his own stubborn will.

She followed him into his cabin, where he sat down at the table with a shellshocked expression on his face, blank and infinitely pained.

“What happened, Nikolai?” Alina cradled his face in her hands, searching his eyes. They were currently docked at the Ravkan coast of the True Sea, as close as they could get to Os Kervos. To get supplies, catch up on the news of the last month that they had spent at sea.

He looked up at her, reaching up to pull her closer, into his lap so that he could press his face against her throat. “They’re gone, Alina,” he murmured.

A shiver ran down her spine. “Who?”

“The King, the Queen. An assassin got into the palace, Vasily is barely alive…”

“How?” Her voice was a croak as his words hit her. She put her arms around him, pressing her lips to his hair as he clung to her. She had never had her own family, certainly not one with such a complex relationship, but she knew the feeling of loss.

“A Shu assassin, they were faking negotiations and someone-” He swallowed thickly, a shudder running through him. “The assassin was killed. The delegation that had been there was thinned considerably, sent back to Shu Han.”

“Who’s running things in Os Alta?” The Darkling, almost certainly. Or the Apparat, as she thought of the old priest with a shudder.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know. I’m not sure anyone knows right now.”

“That’s bad. We can’t just have the country being run by a faceless person on the throne.” She frowned. “It’s most likely the Darkling, or the Apparat. I’m not sure which one I prefer.”

“I’m not sure,” he whispered, his voice strained. “Alina, I have-”

“You have to go be king,” she finished for him. “I know.”

He drew back, taking her hands in his with a desperate light in his eyes. “Alina, will you come with me? I’m- I don’t know if I can do this, I haven’t been able to adjust to everything, everything will be in uproar-”

“Nikolai,” she said, leaning in to kiss him soundly. She could almost feel the waves of grief washing through him, her heart clenching for him. “Of course I will. You’ll be fine, you’ve always known exactly what to say. People will probably latch onto you, they’ll be more than happy to let a Lantsov rule, especially a man like you.”

She’d never told him of his heritage. And now with his mother gone, there wasn’t a chance in the world that she would be giving him that weight on his mind. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against her shoulder once more, shivering despite the warmth of the coast.

After a few moments he sobbed, quietly. Her heart broke with the sound, and she held him through the nearly silent cries that wracked his strong frame like he was nothing but a blade of grass in a thunderstorm. She ran her hand through his hair, breathing slow as she did her best to calm him in small ways. She murmured his name, pressed kisses to his forehead, rubbing circles onto his shoulders. Eventually he fell still once more, still clinging to her, but his tears stopped and Alina could feel the way he worked to bring his breathing back under control.

Then he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Sorry, lovely. It seems like my suave exterior has thoroughly been broken."

Alina sighed through a laugh. "Nikolai, your suave exterior only lasts for as long as it takes for us to find our way back under the sheets."

"Ah, you're not wrong…" he raised his head, wiping the tears from his eyes as he gave her a shaky smile. This would likely be the only time that he allowed himself to cry over the loss of his parents - he would grieve in other ways, more supposedly productive ways. "I guess I should start preparing the crew for my leave."

"Get Privyet to masquerade as you while you're gone," Alina said suddenly. "It's what you did the last time you became king."

"I suppose Privyet isn't the worst choice… you make it sound like I'll be able to return though." He slid a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear as he stared at her with a small smile. "I have a feeling that a king has even less of a place on a ship like this than a prince."

She kissed him then, a quick press of the lips. "You're not wrong, but when has that ever stopped you? It could be a good way to gather information, if you ever feel like you have to do so personally."

"Lovely, I'm afraid that I'd rather do just about all information gathering myself. I don't often like hearing second hand information."

"Yes, yes, but… important things. We can decide together what kinds of things we might need Sturmhond for, right? And I happen to know of a wonderful Tailor living in Os Alta that can help disguise someone as you while you're gone."

Nikolai smiled, and even as Sturmhond she could see the familiar grin of his, though now it was weighted with grief. "Ah, what would I do without you, sunshine?"

"Probably stay rather cold at night," she teased gently. "But come, let's start getting you prepared. We need to get to Os Alta as quickly as possible."

"Yes, yes. Coming, my dear." But as Alina rose from his lap, he simply stared at her for several moments, his hand slipping into hers. "I don't even entirely understand why I miss them so much already. I was never shown much kindness, especially from my useless ass of a father."

She squeezed his hand. More than anyone thought, she knew just how complicated it could be to miss someone you spent so much time resenting, or simply avoiding. "I know," she answered simply, and hoped that it would be enough.

But finally he got to his feet, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her close. "Thank you, Alina."

"Of course." She tucked her cheek against his chest, holding onto him in turn. "We'll be alright, I hope you know."

He chuckled. "But of course, lovely. Why wouldn't we be?"

She shared in his laughter, though her thoughts were full of darkness. It was time for her to return to Os Alta.

~~~

The journey was much quicker than the tour through Ravka that her and Nikolai had taken before, when she had been Sankta Alina, the potential Queen to the returning prince. They only stopped when they absolutely needed to rest the horses. Alina had never been a good rider, but she had to admit that the days of traveling by horseback were much better than the few times she had been required to ride in her old age, without quite the wretchedly painful ache of an aging body.

When they reached Os Alta, they found that it was indeed the Darkling that was tending to the affairs of the country. Nikolai marched into the war room where the ancient Grisha was holding a meeting, still dressed in dusty traveling clothes, and sat himself down in the seat at the head of the table.

"Explain to me how a Shu assassin could sneak so easily into the palace," he said darkly, Alina standing behind him at his right. "And kill my parents."

It was quite the entrance, as the room fell silent. Alina's back and legs were aching from the forced pace they had taken all the way here, but she forced herself to stand up straight and glare down at each member of this meeting sitting at the table. She wasn't blind to the fact that many more of the attendees to this were Grisha, faces that she recognized. Ivan, Zoya, a Materiakli that she'd never caught the name of.

The Darkling stood, giving a bow that was required in the face of a ruler of Ravka. And that was what Nikolai was now - Vasily was too gravely injured to be running the country, and the likelihood for him to recover was slim, not to mention the fact that… well, if the rumors were true, Vasily wouldn't be able to produce heirs, which would throw the already tumultuous country into chaos.

"Prince Nikolai. It is good that you are here," he said flatly. Alina could see the spark of annoyance, of anger in his eyes. "We were just discussing how we were going to get you back home safely."

"I have my own ways to stay safe. Now, if you would answer my question? How did armed Shu assassins get into the palace in the first place?"

"They weren't armed when they entered the Grand Palace, _moi_ _soverenyi,_ it appears that they stole weapons from the guards in the palace."

Nikolai placed his hand softly on the table, his eyes sharp and blazing - Alina had never found out where he had honed that fire into the cold anger he used to show, if her presence had shifted his experiences. "Are our guards so poorly trained that they cannot even keep a man or two from murdering our two most important people in the country? Why should I show any faith in their competence?"

The Darkling nodded. "The guards were mostly hired by palace staff, so I understand that you might not want to trust them after this attack. I can offer you the services of my Grisha though, I can guarantee that no mere man will get past them."

"I will be sure to use Grisha. But not your own. I don't know who to trust, so me and my advisors will be choosing my personal guard." He waved a hand to Alina, staring at the people gathered. Making sure they knew for certain that he wasn't about to trust any of them so easily after what had happened.

“As you wish.” The Darkling gave another bow before settling back into his seat again.

And then the meeting continued on as normal, though Alina found her eyes getting stuck on the ancient Grisha more often than not. She knew that he was aware of her stares, but when he knew so little about her there was no reason for him to be bothered by her. Not yet, at least.

So when the meeting ended and all the people assembled shuffled out of the war room, leaving Alina and Nikolai with the Darkling, she was surprised when he met her eyes and cocked his head to the side.

“I find myself rather interested in who your advisors are,  _ moi soverenyi. _ You’ve spent quite some time at university, have you not?” Something in his voice told Alina that he didn’t entirely believe that story, if only based on Nikolai’s entrance.

But the prince simply sat forward, lacing his fingers together. “I’ve been busier than people believe. This is Alina. My two others are waiting for me outside my rooms of the Grand Palace.”

He nodded. “And Alina, where are you from? You seem rather young to be an advisor to the royal prince.”  _ Unworthy, _ his voice said as he stared at her.

In return, all she did was smile. And stay silent. He wouldn’t be digging information about her out this time, not before she was ready to share - and this time she’d be more careful about it.

In turn, Nikolai seemed to understand her silence, so he shrugged. “She doesn’t need to disclose where she’s from. I trust her.”

“If I may be so bold to speak, are you sure that’s wise? Especially in light of recent events I’m not sure if I would be so quick to trust anyone who doesn’t seem willing to share even such simple information.” His eyes finally moved from her to the prince, picking him apart as Nikolai smiled politely in turn.

The prince then stood up, and out of propriety the Darkling rose to his feet as well. “Don’t be so concerned about the people close to me, please. I’d rather you focus on ratting out those who might betray my rule. The coronation will have to be as soon as possible, and I have some plans for the military to start working through.”

The Darkling bowed, eyes never straying from the prince. To Nikolai it would be invisible, but Alina could see the shadows dripping at his fingertips - so tempted to cut the prince down where he stood, blame it on more assassins. But they disappeared after a moment as he straightened up.

“As you wish,  _ moi soverenyi.” _

Nikolai nodded, offering Alina an arm to take as they walked out of the war room. She tried not to lean into his side too much until they were out of the Darkling’s sight, but once the door closed behind them she sighed and tipped her head onto his shoulder.

“Be careful around him, Nikolai,” she murmured. “He might be playing at being loyal for now, but the moment you slip up he will take advantage of it.”

“Sounds like the rest of court,” he replied dryly. “Don’t worry, lovely. I got this.”

She smiled a little and let him lead the way out of the Little Palace. “So what is your plan to take care of this mess?”

“I become King, make sure to keep the Darkling far away from my sweet little sunburst, and see that the next generation has a good chance at survival.” He grinned at her, patting her hand as they walked. “Simple enough, right?”

“Nikolai…” Alina laughed softly. “Right now, what are your plans? Obviously the Shu can’t just be allowed to do something so serious to Ravka and get away with it. Are you planning on declaring war on them again?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t have enough information yet, I need more than what I’ve gotten from our time on the road.”

She nodded. “We should watch our border with Fjerda as well. If they get word of the assassination, they’ll be moving on the border towns to try to expand their reach.”

“Of course.”

They were silent for several minutes, and Alina had a distinct feeling of something rather backwards happening. So many times, Nikolai had walked her from the Grand Palace to the Little, after meetings with the royal council when she had been the leader of the Grisha. Before everything had gone wrong, and she had seen the destruction of one of her rare homes.

But things proceeded more or less as planned. They gathered what information they could, though much of it seemed fuddled and confused with all the different accounts of the assassination that they had gotten. But as far as they could tell, things had gone more or less the way the Darkling had explained - one man in the delegation of the Shu had stolen a guard’s weapon and lunged for the King, and then the Queen in the confusion following.

At the end of the day, the two of them sat with Tamar, Tolya, and Ilana who had come with them. They discussed the matter of Nikolai’s guard, who would be responsible for keeping the future King safe, who they would start looking at who could have possibly been involved in a betrayal.

At the end of it, the three others retreated from the sitting room. Nikolai looked tired as he looked around, firelight flickering across his features as he closed his eyes for a moment and sat back in his cushioned chair.

Alina was feeling it as well. After so many days on horseback followed by a full day of dealing with a palace in chaos, her body ached and her mind was in desperate need of a break.

“Alina.”

She snapped back to focus with a blink, shaking her head free of the thoughts running through her mind. “Yes?”

Nikolai sat forward, his expression serious. He was silent for several moments, taking in her features, and eventually he got to his feet to join her on the couch she was settled in. Settling against his side, she took a deep breath and sighed as he put her arm around her shoulders.

“I’m going to need a Queen,” he murmured.

Her heart fluttered, and for a traitorous moment her mind drifted to messy brown hair and blue eyes, before lips pressed to her forehead. “I know.”

“I know you weren’t so willing the last time, as you told me…”

“Nikolai, I told you. I chose you. I know what that entails in this situation.” She sat up, taking his face between her hands as she kissed him. “I’m prepared for this.”

He smiled softly, brushing a thumb against her lip as he pulled away. “The Lantsov emerald is still in the family’s treasury for now, but I’d like for you to have it. And if you’ll have me, I’ll have to give an engagement announcement soon, unless you’d want to put on a show…” A sly smirk built on his lips, and with a laugh Alina leaned forward to press her own lips to that stupid smile.

“Do I get a choice in this endeavour?”

“But of course, lovely.” He grinned, digging his fingers into her hair and tilting her head up to meet him. And then she shivered with the feeling of his lips on her neck, a silent promise of more, before a knock sounded at the door and the two of them pulled apart reluctantly.

Nikolai cleared his throat after a moment of staring and called out. “Come in.”

“Moi soverenyi,” the Darkling greeted as he stepped in, eyes flickering between the two of them. “I’d like to speak with you. Privately, if I could. It’s about your parents.”

The prince’s eyes flicked to Alina as well, and he sighed as he stood up. She followed suit, and Nikolai politely showed her to the door, leaving her off with a quiet goodnight.

Alina stood outside the door, tempted to try to listen in, before she decided to simply go to her rooms and get some rest for the night. Plans for everything would have to be set out in the morning and the days to come, and preparations for continued war would have to be started.

She fell into bed with a great heave of a sigh, closing her eyes as her aching body pulled her into sleep.

~~~

In the morning, Nikolai presented a plan to her. Something to show off her summoning, to make certain that the rest of the world knew that Ravka was strong with both of the world’s strongest Grisha directly supporting the throne.

She was hesitant about accepting that particular plan, knowing that while it would show the world how strong Ravka was, it would also expose her to the Darkling. And who knew what he would have planned with Nikolai now sitting on the throne with Alina beside him.

With the plans that Nikolai had in mind, she would show off her powers in just a few hours. It was unprecedented, but it was necessary to calm the turmoil that had taken hold of the palace after the death of the sovereign rulers.

So Alina carefully agreed, and prepared herself for what was to come. After this she couldn’t show weakness, she couldn’t be the girl that was basking in the care that the prince gave her. She would be a Queen, a pillar of light in a country whose future was looking bleak and dark.

And when the time came, and Nikolai called for all his most important members of the court - the Darkling among them. Alina was put on a raised dais that had been hastily prepared, and when everyone was gathered, she took a deep breath.

So many eyes on her.

She raised her hands above her head. A true pillar of light burst forth from her hands, flowing from the sky into her palms, pooling out around her in a warm counterpart to the side of the palace that was so often obscured in shadow.

The crowd was silent for a moment, if not for a few cries of unexpected fear… and then it all changed into cries of joy. People shouted in exultation, clinging to their neighbors with tears in their eyes as they realized what her light brought.

Hope, of closing the Fold that had so long divided the country. Hope of a new dawn for Ravka, hope of showing their enemies who was truly strong in the world. Hope for the end of wars, the end of the age of misfortune and pain that had come over the land.

Alina was sure that she wasn’t quite the savior that they wanted, the one who could tear apart the Fold. Not yet. But she would be, eventually, no matter how long it took for her to get there.

And then she met the Darkling’s eyes and saw the hunger there that was now so familiar, and a small shudder trailed down her spine with an icy grip.

Until the feeling was broken as Nikolai swept up to her with a grin, his fist clenched around something glinting green. Her heart swooped upwards with a myriad of emotions, a flash of blue eyes in her mind before her thoughts were swallowed by hazel. She wasn’t expecting the prince to pick her up, to swing her around as he laughed loudly for the crowd to hear, to set her down on her feet and kiss her breath from her lungs.

And then he made a show of drawing back, a look of utter adoration in his eyes making a different sort of shiver down her spine as he presented the Lantsov emerald to her.

“Alina, my lovely sunshine, will you marry me?” His words were a murmur, too quiet for the crowd to hear over their excited chatter even as they quieted to see this moment. His words were meant for her only, and as she squeezed his hands tightly in her own, she made sure to make it obvious enough what she was agreeing to when she nodded.

And then the applause was thunderous, whoops and cries once against overwhelming any other words they might have shared as Nikolai slipped the ring onto her finger.

And after the proposal, after the show that she had put on, there were still things to do. Some things were made easier by the fact that she could simply be close to Nikolai now, and some were made harder as person after unfamiliar person came to deliver their congratulations. Tamar and Tolya were having a hard time controlling who got close to them, but Alina wasn’t too concerned. She was a powerful enough Grisha on her own that she was confident in her ability to contain any threat.

Not to mention the fact that the Darkling had hardly kept his eyes off of her all night. If anyone was to raise a hand against her, she was sure that he would cut them down just as quickly as she would.

Nikolai never did explain what the Darkling had wanted to talk to him about the night before.

~~~

The coronation went smoothly. Nikolai was named the new ruler of Ravka, and despite the nasty looks his brother threw him from his new wheeled chair, he managed to wheeze a thanks and a murmur of congrats as well.

Occasionally Alina caught wind of some discontent murmurs in the crowd, carefully hushed voices cursing the new King’s name, calling him an opportunist, but she mostly waved them off. She’d keep those voices in mind, but she was sure that the people of Ravka would ultimately appreciate the change of King.

And when everything was done, Alina was able to meet him in his formal clothing and fur-trimmed cloak, pressing her lips to his gently. This was only the beginning for them - a dangerous game had been initiated, a balancing act waiting to topple if they slipped up even once.

~~~

Next was the wedding, and quietly she admitted that she was terrified.

~~~

“You looked beautiful in that dress, Alina,” Nikolai growled against her throat, hands wandering incessantly as he gripped and smoothed and brushed her skin with rough fingers.

Their wedding night, and their procession through the Grand Palace and into the main ballroom to their reception had seemed to take ages with all the pomp and tradition they had to follow. But after a month of being so completely unable to take a moment alone, the new royal couple were unable to keep their hands off each other and had, expectedly enough, retired from the party to their new rooms earlier than what was considered proper.

A laugh bubbled out of her. “You seemed impatient to get me out of it, though.”

She felt his grin against her skin a moment before his canines dug in, just above her collarbone. He took a moment to suck a mark onto her before releasing her and nipping at her just hard enough to make her gasp. “Of course, lovely. You look even more beautiful in nothing at all.”

Alina melted under his ministrations, pulling him up by the hair to connect their lips once again. She loved him, she knew - and yet her mind kept wandering, finding comparisons between the Nikolai that she saw now and the Mal that she knew back then. Comparisons that were unfair, that should never be there.

Despite everything, she still missed the boy that would forever be her sweetheart.

But when Nikolai slowly pressed into her, a moan muffled in her shoulder with tongue and teeth, her thoughts were evaporated into the sweat that stuck their skin together. She murmured his name, reveling in the feeling of him, and glowed with pleasure with each new movement.

She could feel his desperation, the little things that told him just how much he had missed this, to be able to feel their bare skin, the two of them brought so close together. The way he kissed her, the way his hands still seemed to stay restless, unable to resist skittering up and down across her, touching all the little places he knew would have her flying higher in pleasure, with a cry in her throat.

When they crashed over the edge together, her voice was but a hoarse whisper. She took in the feeling of him still firmly buried into her, sweat a sheen on his skin, his eyes glazed over with a look that made her heart clench almost painfully.

“I love you,” she mumbled against his lips. It wasn’t the first time she had said it, but it felt like the first honest thing she had said to him.

He brushed her hair back, out of her face. “My dear Alina… I love you too.”

~~~

Despite everything, she hadn’t forgotten why she was still here.

That reason found her in the days following the wedding, sitting alone in a quiet room that Alina had shortly taken shelter in.

“The life of a Queen not taking kindly to you, Alina?”

She turned her head with a quiet sigh. “No, not entirely. I find it exhausting.”

The Darkling sat in a chair a few feet away from her own, his eyes flickering over the book in her hand. “Ruling will do that to you. But I suspect that you’ll get used to it, given time.” He tilted his head, looking over her appraisingly. “I’m curious about one thing, though.”

“Yes?” Alina didn’t have the patience to play his mind games. She’d been getting worn down with all the pomp and prose of court, after having forgotten just how tedious and tiring it could get. Adding on the confusion he inevitably left her with would only make it worse.

“How did a Grisha as powerful as you, as unique as you, hide in this country? Where did our testers miss you?” His eyes narrowed on her. “Where did you come from, Alina?”

“Rather demanding words for someone talking to his Queen, no?” She sighed and glared at him, folding her hands into her lap. She was still getting used to the dresses that she had to wear as part of her normal wear, the long and heavy skirts wearing her down uncomfortably. “And as Nikolai said the last time you asked, I have no reason or desire to answer your questions. I don’t trust that you wouldn’t use the information against me if given the chance.” Like he did once. Like he had many times, with the bodies of familiar faces hanging from an oak tree that she had once loved.

“I see no reason to use titles here.” The Darkling leaned forward. “It is no one but you and I. The two most powerful Grisha in the world. I see no reason why we should use titles between the two of us.”

_ Not counting your mother, _ she thought bitterly. She remembered keenly the way the nichevo’ya had followed the trails of her power over the edge of the cliff at the Spinning Wheel.

“If we’re not going to be using titles, then I would like to know your true name,” she jabbed harshly. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he would give her his true name, but she was playing the part of a new ruler, a girl that was clueless in her new rank. “There must be a name that a child was born with once, instead of a title as tarnished as The Darkling.”

“Tarnished?” His voice was rather amused.

“The Black Heretic definitely did your line no favors when he created the Fold.”

“You are correct. But it’s all we can do, for the fathers and sons of Darklings to do the best we can to fix his mistakes.”

She almost laughed in his face. Alina knew the truth of it. She’d almost forgotten how smooth of a liar he was. Instead, she gave a wan smile. “And you still haven’t given me a name to call you by.”

“I will, eventually. Not tonight though.”

“Then what did you want from me tonight, my Darkling?” She watched his eyes flicker in the low light before tucking her feet under herself and summoning a glow in her palm. It sharpened the lines of his face, his high cheekbones and the hard line of his jaw, made his beauty stand out.

He stared at the light that she gave, quietly basking in it even as he hungered after it. “I want to help you, to help Ravka. And I have a way that I could stop these wars of ours for good, with your help.”

“And that is?”

“If I can get into the Fold safely, with your light keeping the volcra away, I could expand the Fold into Shu land.” He leaned forward. “I could-”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed. “Alina, you know that this could be an excellent way to return the favor to the Shu Han, revenge for murdering King Nikolai’s parents.”

“And if I help you with this, what will be stopping you from simply swallowing the world into darkness?” She sat up angrily, the light in her hand flaring. “I will not risk you becoming a supposed master to the rest of the world with this power of yours.”

“And your husband?” His voice turned soft, dangerous. She knew the game he was playing at, and she wouldn’t play it with him.

“Nikolai knows just how dangerous you are, Darkling. Do not think that you will be able to change my mind through him, do not think that you can affect me in my decision.” She stood up, marching over to him and tilting his head up by the chin, a touch that he seemed to welcome. If he was shocked at the depth of swirling, complicated emotion that opened for his view as their connection opened, he didn’t show it.

He simply sat there, staring up at her, picking her apart as she gripped him and stared back at him.

“How long do you think you’ll be able to run, Alina?”

She growled quietly. “I don’t need to run. I’m going to be staying right here to keep an eye on you.”

“How long until you leave your precious husband behind to the wastes of time?” His hand came up, gripping her wrist for a moment before gliding up her arm with fingertips against her skin. “I’ve seen it myself already, the way things hurt so badly to leave behind when you’ve lived too long.”

In return for his words, Alina let all the loneliness that she struggled with each day to come roaring out of her. All the little certainties that came to her when she realized that she would never share memories of that first life with anyone again. The loneliness of the knowledge that no matter how many times she could tell stories, no one would ever know just how much it had shaped her. She’d never be able to sit down with Genya, with her embroidered eyepatch, and talk about the simple things that they had missed while they were trapped in the White Cathedral. She would never see Zoya soften with their friends as they remembered who they had lost in their battles against the Darkling. She would never lay next to the Mal that knew what haunted her in the night.

She watched as his eyes widened just a fraction before she pulled her hand away. Right now she didn’t have the will to meet his gaze, so she turned away from him.

“Goodnight, Darkling.”

Her footsteps carried her down the hall to the rooms that she shared with Nikolai, and later he would find her curled up under the covers, tears in her eyes as she shuddered through old nightmares. Later he would curl up with her, hold her close and likely fall asleep before her, his breathing lulling her to sleep with a creeping slowness as she reminded herself that things were alright, here in this place. In this time, before things had been ruined.

~~~

As before, Nikolai started to integrate his inventions into the armies. Grisha and soldiers, working together to rain terror from the skies of Shu Han.

He got his revenge for his parents, though Alina was never sure if the Darkling had come to him with his idea for using the Fold. Ravka expanded, little by little, and years passed. Alina grew into a great Queen, a leader of the Grisha that seemed more than willing to follow when they saw her light.

Genya never quite became her friend. She was still uncomfortable with the thought of serving royalty, of serving a Queen with her husband hovering so close after her abuse from the last King. Alina had told Nikolai of it, of course, and he seemed to take extra care to respect her boundaries.

But as the leader of the Grisha, a title that the Darkling was now second to, she got Genya the red kefta that she deserved. As the leader of the Grisha, she got the orders to mingle, to share ideas, to break down the hierarchy that the Darkling had held up for so long.

He hated her for it, in a way.

The times that Alina found herself alone with the Darkling throughout the years, she joined in with his mind games, swapping useless hints and teases to plans that she was convinced that were only half-made on both sides. She found it almost enjoyable. She could see the hunger in his eyes flicker at times, becoming something almost softer, more innocently wanting that she wasn’t sure he was even aware of.

It made her sigh, every time she inevitably turned to sweep out of the room to answer the call of her duties.

Four years, and finally the Queen was with child. It was nearing the five year mark when she delivered a healthy baby girl that they named Ana. Her hair was nearly white when she was born, and Alina, despite everything, nearly laughed herself hoarse at the irony.

The first time the Darkling saw the girl, suckling innocently at Alina’s breast, his eyes were… curious.

Startlingly clear.

Months later, when Ana was old enough to be taken by nurses to be cared for, Alina went to Nikolai.

She nestled against his body and sighed contentedly. So many months of carrying a child hadn’t done anything for her still rather poor posture, and her back was suffering for it. But as Nikolai dug his fingers in to at least attempt to loosen the knots, she groaned in pain and wriggled until he released the pressure with a slight chuckle.

“Why don’t you get a Healer to look at your back? I’m sure they could help with the pain.”

“Because I’m stubborn,” she grumbled, pushing her face into the pillows. “And I’ve had enough of Healers crawling all over me, trying to make sure that I could push out a baby without dying.”

Nikolai’s lips quirked into a smirk she knew well. “You say that as if you would have rather perished than bring beautiful Ana into the world.”

Alina hmphed at him, but there was no heat in her. Ana  _ was _ beautiful, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her precious daughter. But her mind wandered to the Darkling, whether or not it was safe for him to be so close to that daughter if she turned out to be Grisha - a strong likelihood, as she had learned from Baghra. But not a very strong likelihood that their daughter would be a Sun Summoner like herself. A fact that broke her heart.

“I want him,” she murmured.

At that Nikolai’s eyebrows drew together seriously. He understood what she meant, at least in part. “Him as in…”

“The Darkling.” She had never told Nikolai his true name. It felt like a secret, something to keep to herself. It wasn’t something to be given so easily, even to someone like her husband.

“Now, sunshine, I’m not exactly questioning your sanity but… are you sure?” He sat up, leaning over her with a serious look. “For what reason?”

It wasn’t a no. It wasn’t a flat-out denial. Nikolai didn’t love her any less because of her desire for another, if that was indeed what she felt.

“I want to be able to rest, Nikolai,” she said, tears in her voice as she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. “I want… I want to someday know that I did the right thing. And I think that… maybe, it would be good for him, to have us. I’m not asking you to love him, or for him to love you, but I want to give him the chance to know what it’s like to not be alone.”

Nikolai stared at her, swallowed, cleared his throat as he thought. He wasn’t nearly as open with his emotions with anyone else that she knew of, with the way he shifted and avoided her eyes and tightened his grip on the sheets.

“How do you know he won’t simply turn around and kill me?” His smile was confident, cocky as ever, despite the fact that his hand ran over her arm with a nervous quickness. “I don’t suppose you’d have a way to fix that up, would you?”

Alina laughed quietly, and she took his hands which were still unscarred. “I don’t, not entirely. But I don’t think he will, not if he ever wants me to stay with him.” Her hands gripped his tightly then, a fierce light in her eyes - the look of a mother, a wife, glaring down a challenge to her family’s safety. “If he even tries to hurt you, or Ana, or anyone else, I’ll cut him down. He’s never seen the wrath of a pirate.”

“Privateer,” Nikolai corrected lightly, continuing the game that they’d had for so long now. But his eyes were serious as he stared at her, and after several moments of silence, he nodded. “Alright. We can try.”

Alina smiled back at him, climbing into his lap with the girlish laugh that she hadn’t lost throughout the years. “Now, one question. Would you rather bring him into this slowly, or should I simply break him and see where that leaves us?”

“Whatever you think is best, darling,” he said, looping his arms around her as he kissed her, sinking back into the sheets. “Surprise me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANYWAY YEAH THIS IS TURNING INTO A OT3 FIC FOR A BIT WHAT OF IT
> 
> I can't control myself for shit but uhhh... from here on out my chapters are going to get a bit shorter, but I'll be updating more often. So that's gonna be my Christmas present to yall, I guess, and hopefully people will enjoy it alwehgaliadks. My final chapter count is probably going to be around 13-14 so... you guys have a while to go before this fic finds it's ending, and may it be a good ending.
> 
> As always, feedback is always welcomed and encouraged in the comments or you can find me on my tumblr! Feed a starving writer with kind words this holiday season, lmao.


	8. If Only Things Could Be Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina goes through with her plan. She breaks the Darkling, brings forth the softer side of him. But what is the cost of happiness?

So Alina started to work.

It started with a simple closing of the space that she had given the Darkling. Standing just a touch closer than she usually did, closing the carefully kept gap between them. At first it was as if he was repelled, naturally maintaining said gap without even realizing. But eventually he also started creeping closer.

Once it occurred to her that he might think that she was losing faith in her husband, unconsciously allowing herself the pleasures of getting closer to the one who seemed to be taboo for her.

She laughed to herself, and shifted on her feet so that she could lean just a touch closer to him as she tightened her grip on Nikolai’s hand.

And so it began.

~~~

Eventually she started to close the distance between them completely. Until their shoulders brushed, until her hand ran over the sleeve of his kefta, until she subtly leaned into his side and felt his fingers at the small of her back. But when he reached for her, she moved away, a tease with a lesson behind it - she wasn’t his.

Slowly but surely, she began to break his little habits. He learned to keep his hands to himself until she welcomed him closer. As she led the Grisha, she taught him to be kinder in punishments where it was necessary. Rewarded him with little brushes of her hands when they were alone, across his shoulders or maybe through his hair.

But what they were doing remained unspoken, this thing they had remained a secret they kept to themselves. It was as if it was a secret that the Darkling seemed to be trying to keep to himself. Like there was a risk of him mentioning it and Alina stepping back again.

Once more, she laughed to herself when she was alone.

~~~

Nikolai knew what she was doing, of course. Sometimes he seemed to be rather uncomfortable with the casual way Alina placed her hand on the Darkling’s arm, the way she let her fingertips drift over his back in an oddly possessive manner. But when he did, she tried to take it easy and slow down - he was her husband first and foremost, and she loved him. No matter what her feelings around the Darkling were, Nikolai was the one that she wanted more than anything now.

She stayed attentive to both of them now. Making sure that she didn’t push Nikolai too far too fast and make him back out of this agreement. She’d made it clear that he could do so at any point through this process - once she made sure that the Darkling was hers it would be harder to reverse the entire thing.

The Darkling seemed to be turning more and more desperate for any little thing from her that he could get. Hungry for attention, for the bare brushes that she gave him. It was almost amusing, the way he seemed to break for her.

Maybe, soon, she would really go through with her plans.

~~~

Once she had him sit on the floor in front of her. It was late in the evening, but Alina still had things to take care of when it came to the paperwork for the Grisha. She perched herself on the couch of her sitting room, legs tucked underneath her, and she read over his shoulder.

He’d been doing well, recently. Keeping less from her, not so many little secrets and white lies that he told when he wanted to do something that she wouldn’t approve of. He’d been less harsh with the Grisha also, more willing to improvise and find a solution instead of whipping them for mistakes, so to speak. He might have loved the ones that he led once, but the years behind him had made him cruel.

So now, as she read over his shoulder, she ran her fingers idly through his hair. The first pass had him stiffening up as it always did, as if the touch was unexpected even still. But then her fingers slid through the black strands again and he relaxed.

And he continued to relax, until Alina waited a few moments too long for him to get to the next page of the report that they were reading, this one from the mountains in the east. Her hand stilled and he didn’t move even then, until she tugged on his hair a little and he gave a sleepy noise.

Her lips curled up in a happy smile and she let her hand slide through his hair all the way to the nape of his neck. “Get up, my Darkling. Go to your room, sleep. We’ll continue this later.”

For a few more moments he stayed like that. Since Alina couldn’t see his face, she almost thought that he had fallen asleep again before he started gathering up the papers and quickly he stood with a cool efficiency that hid his embarrassment.

To everyone but her, at least. Alina smiled up at him, staying seated where she was. “Goodnight,” she murmured sweetly.

“Goodnight, moya tsaritsa,” he said, voice somewhat rough with his own tiredness. And then he turned and left, not noticing the single page he had left behind. Alina laughed in the empty room, finally standing to pick up the piece of paper. She never quite thought that she would see the Darkling be so messy, so human with his tiredness. It was oddly adorable, she thought.

~~~

“I think that he’s ready,” Alina murmured to Nikolai.

The man next to her grumbled a little and turned over, blinking lazily. “Hmmnnn?”

She laughed sweetly and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips that he tiredly returned, not entirely coherent with the late hour. “I mean, I think you’re going to have to start getting more familiar with the Darkling rather soon. Do you still not have a preference about how I go about this?”

“As I said, darling.” He yawned, pulled her closer to bury his face in her hair. “Surprise me.”

~~~

And so, whatever her husband thought of this, let it never be said that she didn’t follow instructions to a T.

It had taken almost a year and a half of posturing, of creeping closer to the Darkling, of teasing and prodding him closer to finally get to this point.

And yet, once everything was in order, all it took was a simple kiss to make everything blow up in just the way she wanted. Now Alina was shoving the Darkling down onto the bed that her and Nikolai shared, the bed that they had ruined often enough, the bed that she knew was covered in their combined scent.

He nearly bounced as his back hit the bed, his limbs spread out haphazardly as he stared up at her as if she was the sun itself. And when she clambered onto him, perching herself on his thighs as if he were her throne, his hands clenched and fluttered closer without touching, as if he would burn if he did so without asking. Which she could, if she wanted to. Brand him with her touch like she had done to a misled man with a name that she could barely remember anymore. She could trace her fingertips over his skin, burn her name onto him like an item in her possession that was pretty enough to claim for eternity.

The Darkling could feel the hunger in her thoughts, she knew. She could feel the desperation in him, almost unexpected even after all the work she’d done, rising up in her own throat with the overwhelming power of it.

It was so different from the hunger she had seen, the anger at his own want that she had felt so long before.

“What do you want, Darkling?”

“I want to touch you,” he breathed. “Sol Koroleva.”

She smiled. “Then undress me. Slowly. No more.”

And he sat up, hands tugging, pulling at her clothing until the dress she wore was loose around her torso. Then she stepped off of him again to let it fall to the floor, leaving her body completely bared to him.

“Now you.”

And his hands moved hastily, but with barely a look from her he slowed, peeling first his kefta and then his shirt off, and then his boots and his pants and underwear.

He was fucking perfect.

He was left sitting up, staring at Alina with a look of such wonder, she felt a terrible thrill run through her. It would be so much easier to ruin him than she thought, unless all of this had been some sort of act, to seem weak to her so that she would let down her guard.

Unfortunately, she was more than willing to let down her guard for him. She wanted to be comfortable around him, be the person he could come to with little things like she did with Nikolai, like the King did with her. And if, maybe, Nikolai could be that person for the Darkling as well, she would be so happy she might glow brighter than the sun.

But Aleksander couldn’t hide anything from her. If he had any dark satisfaction from this act of groveling, of being weak to her, then she would do anything to break him of that.

So she slid into his lap again, pressing her body to his as she trailed lines through his hair as she summoned the heat of light to her fingertips.

“What is your name, my Darkling?” She wanted to be able to say it, to see if he would fall apart with a whisper of his name into his ear.

But as he cautiously brought his hands up, hands smoothing over the skin of her thighs, he shook his head. “I can’t, not yet.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Tell me, my shadow.” She took his chin in hand, her grip bruisingly hard. “Or I will leave you here, tied up for my husband to have his way with you.”

At that, a sneer built on his face. But it shuddered and fell away, his emotions turning more frantic, contemplative, nervous as he thought and considered.

Her grip tightened, and for a moment Alina brought her lips down on his. “What are you so afraid of, if I know your name? What do you stand to lose?”

“Aleksander,” he murmured, rushed, and Alina released him with a smile on her face. An expression he seemed to at least try to copy as if he was trying to save face, looking up at her with that same head tilt as he had given the first time he had told her his name. “Will you say it, now that you’ve gotten it?”

Her heart ached. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. “Aleksander,” she murmured. She could feel the shiver that zipped through his system.  _ “Aleksander,” _ she said again, with more force as she bit at his lip.

Then her hand fell between his legs, where he was already hard and aching and he let out a soft sigh against her as she stroked his cock with one hand. It was only a few moments of that before Alina lifted herself up, shuffling closer to sink down on him with her head thrown back, eyes shut tightly as a whine built in her throat.

Aleksander buried his face against her, his nose finding the hollow of her throat as he kissed her skin and tried so hard to control himself.

And Alina went still for just a moment when she had taken all of him in - she pulled his face away from her, tilting him back completely so that her teeth and her lips could make a dark bruise on the underside of his jaw. One that he would wear for days, one that she wouldn’t allow him to cover up or be healed.

“You are  _ mine,” _ she snarled, allowing herself a rare moment of possessiveness.

It seemed to wake something in him again, as a hand ran up and back down her spine. “We are each other’s, Alina.”

“No. No, I am not yours yet. You will have to earn that.” And then she kissed the bruise she had left behind, and her hips started rolling as her eyes fluttered shut. There was electricity between them, she was sure of it, sparks bounding over her skin and lighting up her every nerve as she moved.

A first moan rattled out of Aleksander, and that is when the door opened. Both men now in the room froze, but Alina only cracked an eye open and turned her head to confirm that it was her husband as she continued her movements.

“Well. You certainly know how to surprise a man.”

She sighed in pleasure and left a painful pinch on the base of Aleksander’s neck to get him to focus on her again. “I am nothing if not obedient, love.”

Nikolai snorted. “Now that is a bald-faced lie and you know it. Do I get to join in on this, or am I being punished with having to simply watch?”

At the same time that Aleksander let out a growl of warning, Alina let her hips drop down harder on him and let out a half-answer of, “yes-” as she moaned quietly.

Either way, Nikolai was already pulling his shirt off, kneeling behind her as his arms wrapped around his wife, rolling her nipples between his fingers and making her back arch.

As if in retaliation, Aleksander got a hand between her legs, where he was still splitting her open, thumbing at her clit mercilessly. She cried out, a keen before it stuttered out of existence with Nikolai’s teeth digging into her neck, leaving her with her own mark. For a moment she felt like she was falling apart, blissful between the two men that she had devoted her heart to, before she forced herself to focus.

There was a reason that Alina was here, and no matter how good it felt to have both of their attentions on her, she had to take control of this. She could take her enjoyment in them later.

So she took hold of Aleksander’s hand, forcing it away from her clit, back to his side. And she sat up, away from Nikolai as her hips stuttered and stilled. Her husband let out a breath of a growl, impatient, before she brought out her mostly queenly voice and ordered him to his feet.

“Up, Nikolai. I know that you enjoy marking me, but you have another victim to focus on tonight.” Her eyes sharpened as she stared at Aleksander, as if daring him to speak out against her wishes. He glared back, but as Nikolai shuffled around to take his place behind the ancient Grisha his eyes slid closed. “You’ll get your own turn with me, love.”

“At least I have someone to take my frustrations out on,” he grumbled as she started moving again, pulling a groan from Aleksander. Nikolai’s mouth brushed over the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck before rather suddenly teeth were flashing, digging in with enough force to bruise, to draw blood.

And Alina sighed, rode Aleksander harder, decadent in her pleasure and seeing the way hazel eyes stared up at her with a light in them that made her shiver. Seeing and feeling the way Aleksander shuddered, trying and failing to keep his hands off of her. She was cruel, with how she tore his hands away from her, pressing his arms back until Nikolai seemed to understand, taking his arms and holding them uncomfortably behind his back.

A powerful Grisha, a man that had been alternately in her dreams and nightmares, made weak before the love of his Queen. The sight was enough to make her head spin, even without the feelings of helpless wonder crashing through her from Aleksander, through their connection. The distrust, the tinge of annoyance at Nikolai’s presence a low wall that everything else flooded over in an unstoppable wave.

Her end was coming closer, as she pressed her lips to Aleksanders with enough force to bruise. As her skin began to glow, and she saw his eyes go wide. A murmur was on the tip of his tongue that she wanted to swallow, a lie that she would run from forever if she could.

“Sankta,” he whispered. “Sol Koroleva.”

“No,” she said in return.

“Alina.” It was Nikolai that said it, just a moment before her body finally tumbled over that edge, and her vision went white, and then black in the simmering heat that was left behind in the wake of her light.

And in the aftermath, it was Alina that got up on shaky legs to find things to clean up with. Not that she got very far with Nikolai there to pounce upon her, to stake his claim upon her once more with wrenching hands and breathless kisses and so many murmured praises as she fell apart once again.

But then he was the one to actually do the cleanup, to get his wife and their half-willing partner under the covers before the Sun Summoner, clean and sated and comfortable between their bodies, drifted off.

~~~

“Why?” The Darkling’s voice was a murmur. “Why do this?”

“Because, you will never change if I don’t force you to bend.” Alina’s eyes were closed, her hand sifting through his hair as he rested his head upon her chest. It was growing out, long enough to be pulled back into a tie.

It was an odd moment of relaxation between the two of them. Often enough, moments alone meant moments tearing clothes off one another and Alina once again making sure he knew his place.

He hummed. “How are you so sure?”

“Because.” She tugged on his hair shortly for a moment, an idle smile on her face. “I know you, Aleksander.”

Someday she would explain to him. Tell him the story of her lives, the one that felt so long ago when she had been forced to take his life. When she had ruined this body that was so perfect, when she had chosen another man and lived a normal life over the life of a queen. A Saint queen, a Sun queen. Nothing quite mattered now, the two titles seemed to be one in the same after everything had happened.

But slowly, between her and Aleksander and Nikolai, they were finding their happiness. Aleksander wasn’t so cold with his king anymore, and Alina felt safe enough to leave the two of them alone together for more than the time it took her to go to the bathroom now.

The Grisha wouldn’t quite bend to Nikolai though. He wouldn’t seem so weak to anyone but Alina still, a fact that he seemed to quietly rub into the king’s face whenever he could.

“Do you really though?” Aleksander turned over onto his belly, momentarily leaving her cold where he had been laying. He stared up at her now, his eyes clear, and yet his words were a challenge to her.

She brushed his hair back from his face. “I want to,” she whispered, remembering her last life when she had said those same words. The way he had walked away and betrayed her not so long afterwards.

In return, he closed his eyes and pressed his ear to her chest so that he might hear her heartbeat. “You will. Eventually. You’ll learn me.”

It was an answer that she would have to learn to be alright with. At least, that’s the feeling she got from his words. She would learn him, all his little intricacies and all of his stories. It was a simple thing, really, all she needed was time with him to learn who he really was. And how she could help him, to save him.

~~~

Two years more and finally she managed to worm her way into his heart, to hear the words she never quite thought she would ever hear from him.

But he was tired, and his words quiet. Just a murmur in her ear as Nikolai ran fingertips through the Grisha’s hair, surrounded by king and queen.

“I do care for you, Alina.”

And her heart bloomed with warmth. It was love, in Aleksander’s own complicated way. She didn’t think he loved in the way any other person would, but this was the way he showed it. In tired, quiet ways, when he was safe in the cradle of his lovers.

~~~

And yet, once again, things came crashing down.

~~~

Again, she was heavy with child. No one out of the three of them knew whose it was, but none of them especially cared - the country was secure in the future of a toddler whose laughter echoed through the halls, a handful for the nurses that the women seemed to adore.

Ana was growing up strong, with her almost unnaturally white-blonde hair unmarred by even a touch of brown. Alina still laughed to herself when she saw people comment on it, thinking of the way her hair had turned white and brittle after once trying to kill a man that the child saw as a second father. She hadn’t quite explained that to Nikolai, not even after all this time, the way her hair had turned such a brilliantly pure color.

Someday she might explain her story to Aleksander, but right now that seemed to be years out still.

Right now, tension was taut between Ravka and the Shu - word had gotten to them about a new drug that was being experimented with in Kerch. Something that was affecting Grisha in ways that should never be possible. Something that could potentially be even more powerful than merzost.

Grisha walking through walls, controlling minds, creating completely new materials in ways that shouldn’t be  _ possible. _ It unnerved her.

But right now, she watched Ana as she terrorized her nurses with waves of water from the fountain. Already, the girl was a powerful Tidemaker. Ilana had been tasked with helping with the child, at least when it was her turn on the guard. The woman and Aleksander got along surprisingly well. Well enough that Alina was beginning to think that she had a crush on the ancient Grisha - something that would unfortunately only end with jealousy if he didn’t make his disinterest clear soon. Alina had found that she herself was a rather possessive lover, at least when it came to Aleksander.

Now she was enjoying a false summer afternoon, the snow melted around her as she relaxed on a bench in the garden as she watched her child play.

Maybe she could have Ilana explain to her how her aspect of the Small Science worked. Maybe she could teach her how to bend water to her will.

~~~

Now, she was inspecting Nikolai’s face with a small smile. They had been ruling for years now - how many? Seven, eight? Close enough to ten, she supposed.

His face had the hints of age that came with it, so different from the flashes of Nikolai that she had gotten between seeing Sturmhond when they were still playing as pirates on the True Sea. And yet her and Aleksander, of course, remained looking as young as the day that they had met.

Her heart ached to see the difference already. A dark part of her soul whispered sin to her, things she knew that she would regret so dearly.

_ Go back. You can start again. _

But throughout all these years another thought had crept in.

Maybe the worlds she left behind didn’t simply stop with her. Maybe the things she did in each life did matter, and if she simply left them so easily… how did it leave them? Did the Darkling someday find another Sun Summoner to use and corrupt? Did hope of closing the Fold die with her? Would Ravka suffer and perish because of her death, before she set it free from the darkness slashing through its heart, choking its access to its precious ports and harbors?

Alina was surprised to find that she missed the True Sea, after the years that she spent upon it with Nikolai. She wondered if Mal knew who it was that was sitting beside Nikolai on the throne.

She wondered if she would ever see him again in this life.

Her mind drifted shortly to the amplifiers that she had worn so long ago. With the power she had worked herself up to in this life, how powerful would she be now with them? The collar of antlers, the fetter of scales around her wrist. Would she be able to close the Fold now?

“Alina,” Nikolai murmured to her, reaching over and brushing his fingers over her cheek. “Why are you crying?”

She shook her head, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly. “I think it’s time to tell him, my love.”

“Aleksander?” It was still odd to hear the Darkling’s name on his lips.

But she nodded.

And he nodded in return, kissing her knuckles. “I trust your decision, Alina.”

~~~

Not two nights later, the world exploded into light. Alina shook, but she couldn’t stop it. Her mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour, and it felt so  _ good. _ It was the satisfaction of using her powers to their absolute limits, multiplied upon itself a thousand times.

Somewhere, among the stone that seemed to  _ melt _ around her, she heard shouts.

Parem. Ah yes, that was likely what was causing this. She would be addicted, a shell of herself.

And a child’s voice.

Ana.

Her tears of realization were evaporated in the heat, as she heard her little girl’s screams, not recognizing the queen, her mother, though she knew it was her that stood there cloaked in blinding light.

Before she could do any more damage, Alina had the state of mind to end things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, just. I'm so sorry. This is awful, I know. But! If I'm not worn out tomorrow I'll get another chapter out, I promise <3
> 
> (Please tell me that someone else was kinda killed by the Darkling falling asleep with Alina playing with his hair, because I got the idea from a friend and just about laid down and died when I actually thought about it. Just... soft bb is tired and too relaxed to keep his eyes open)
> 
> And uhhhh there's a reason why I didn't get too much into detail with Ana because I can't... handle children getting hurt so uH forgive me. She's a sweetie and I'm love her but,,,,, my heart wasn't gonna be able to handle that T~T


	9. And Onto the Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina lost everything with the end of her last life. But her struggle doesn't yet have an end in sight, and all she can do is keep moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so MERRY CRISIS
> 
> I know I failed on getting this chapter up when I said I would try to, but... well, the eve of the eve of Christmas was hectic and I have decided that going shopping with multiple people is the worst idea in the world. But, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. From here on out, the story gets a bit vague for a while... but we're getting to the end of this fic, and Alina does get her man eventually. I promise.

She woke up screaming.

_ Save him. _

She sobbed into her hands, her body scrunched up into a curl. Already she knew that she was back in Keramzin, the other kids around her woken up by her awful screams. But most of them assumed it was just a nightmare, and settled back down into their beds with quiet grumbles.

The only one that came to comfort her was Mal, who she latched onto immediately as he came to slide beneath her covers, wrapping his arms around her.

He asked what her nightmares had been about, if she wanted to talk, but she simply shook her head and leaned against him more. Her mind was stuck on those last few moments. She wished, so desperately, that it had simply been a nightmare.

_ Momma, stop, it hurts. _

Little Ana… would she ever see her daughter again? Would she ever get to see her truly grow up, into a queen? Her sobs were muffled into her pillows, Mal’s chest as she shook until they both finally fell asleep.

This time it took her a week to leave Keramzin. And when she did, Alina was alone. It was harder than she remembered, without Mal there to hunt for their food, but she made due. She picked berries and found wild apples and caught the occasional bird or small rabbit with her hands with a bit of patience and will.

Maybe he didn’t know what to do when she disappeared, but Mal never tracked her down.

And this time when she made it to the Fold, she was easily able to walk her way across. She emerged on the other side tired with how long she’d been awake, but largely unaffected apart from that. It seemed as though she had kept the power she had worked herself up to last time, without the help of amplifiers.

This time when she found Privyet, she gave him a look weighted with sorrow. And with only some show and instinctive acting on her part, he allowed her a place on his ship.

She worked hard, she lent her powers to the crew once more, but she didn’t look for opportunities to get close to Sturmhond this time. She didn’t think she could stand seeing him again, after the years she had spent by his side, as his queen. Not after Ana, not after feeling so loved by him.

And yet still, eventually Sturmhond pulled her onto his ship as she knew he would. She got her own bunk with the crew, had his muddy green eyes on her often, and she wanted to cry with each day that passed.

But she continued on, because what else could she do? Jump overboard? It would only land her back at Keramzin, or back at Kribirsk, or somewhere in between that she had started to forget about. Her pain was one that she would carry with her forevermore.

But this time, she paid attention more. She listened to Ilana and the other Tidemakers, the Squallers, the few Inferni on the ship. She listened to Tolya and Tamar, though she kept her distance from her friends.

And one day, she dropped onto the barrel of pickled food beside the one that Ilana was sitting on.

“Teach me.”

“What are you talking about?” Ilana raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m pretty sure you’ve already been taught how to work the lines, sunny. Unless you’ve knocked your head hard enough to forget.”

“No, I want you to teach me how to be a Tidemaker.”

Ilana looked at her as if she had grown a beard and started crowing like a rooster. “You’re kidding.”

Alina shook her head. “Before I came here, before I joined Sturmhond’s crew, I came across something. It was an old, old book. It said that Grisha used to… well, they weren’t so specialized when it came to what they did.”

“Well that book of yours is crazy. There’s no way-”

“Ilana, if there was ever anyone that could teach me, it would be you. Please, just in between jobs.” Alina tilted her head with a cocky grin that came easy to her some days, even if it was just an impersonation. “There’s a reason why Sturmhond likes you so much.”

And the woman stared at her with a sour look. Alina knew that she was preying on her ego, the best way to get Ilana to go through with any challenge or dare. But after a few moments she tsked and shrugged, throwing her hands in the air. “Fine, fine. But if I’m not able to teach you, don’t whine to me about it.”

In return, Alina simply smiled. Gave a nod. And stood up to walk away as she saw Sturmhond start to approach, her heart still too broken to speak to him casually most days.

~~~

The day that she first managed to pull her own wave from the water below was the same day that her heart nearly crumbled in on itself.

Ilana whooped, bouncing on the balls of her feet with a wide grin, fist pumping into the air. “Hell yeah! I’ve taught a Sun Summoner how to be a Tidemaker!”

Alina dropped her arms with a whoof of air from her lungs. She was glowing with that same satisfaction that she had felt when she was still growing as a Sun Summoner. It was like exercising new muscles and feeling wonderfully sore afterwards, knowing that you’ve pushed your limits. And to see physical matter move under the weight of her will… it was pleasing.

A few of the Grisha on the ship crowded around, offering their congratulations, patting her on the back with laughs and cheers, asking Ilana for lessons of their own as they stood around, so proud of their Sun Summoner as always.

The laughter lasted for hours, as Alina continued to gently push herself. By the afternoon she was almost struggling to summon even her light, and her body was tired, calling for rest.

She’d just laid down for a nap when shouts broke out on the top deck, and she was once again on her feet, tiredly stumbling up to see what had happened.

On the horizon there was a fleet of ships. Moving quickly, headed straight for the Volkvolny. They were spread out, sweeping, coming to meet a matching group of ships coming from the opposite direction.

She heard Sturmhond sweep by, cursing under his breath, as her blood froze in her veins. Alina was tired, too exhausted with her unfamiliar summoning to hide the ship for long enough for them to escape, too exhausted to even think of using the Cut to buy them some time.

“We’re doing this the old fashion way!” Someone in the crew shouted the call, and the rest of the crew howled in response.

The old fashion way, like it had been before Alina came along. They hadn’t had a single casualty for months since they learned how to work with her ability to bend the light around them. But now, because of her carelessness, they would have to run the risk of the ship being blown to bits between enemy cannons. They weren’t close enough to see the flags that were being flown, but they were deep into Fjerdan waters currently, so it was a far reach to hope that they were Ravkan ships.

Sturmhond shouted orders, turning them to the south, back towards Ravka. This wasn’t going to be pretty and he knew it, but it was better to get them going along towards a friendly place to land.

Alina came up to stand at his shoulder. More and more often, she found herself here, staring silently out over the deck of the ship and watching for trouble. Internally she cursed herself for her foolishness - why wouldn’t the enemy show up just as she exhausted herself? That was the way of the universe, it seemed. Ruining things just as they got good.

“Do you think you’ll be able to cover us, even for just a short time?” Sturmhond didn’t look at her, but she could see his strain in the clench of his jaw, the stare he skewered the water with.

“I can try,” she said carefully. “I can’t promise how effective it will be, though.”

“Anything is better than nothing. Give us what you can.” And then he glanced over his shoulder at her with a smirk that was just a hair too tight. “And pray to the Saints that they’ll be merciful.”

Alina returned his smirk, remembering her titles. “You could do a lot worse than me,” she murmured quietly, almost too quietly for him to hear.

But he laughed anyways, and as the minutes ticked by and Squallers raised the winds in the sails until they were barely skimming the water, she saw his hands clench nervously. Seconds more and they would be sliding between ships.

She raised her arms, felt the weight of her body and she asked her power for just one more push, one more heave.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad I’ve had you on board,” Sturmhond said, just the moment before she called the light to her. It was easier than bending light, and would hopefully blind the people on board the other ships.

Shots from rifles rang out, from the Volkvolny and the others, and screams of pain sounded. She heard a couple of cannon shots, but it seemed like many had been shocked to see sudden, blinding light suddenly flooding the late afternoon water as if a new sun had been born. The deck didn’t shudder under her feet at least, so it seemed like they hadn’t been hit by the cannons.

A groan sounded close by her, of pain or of relief she couldn’t tell - she would have to worry about one thing at a time. Then a muffled, gentle thud beside her feet as if someone had collapsed to their knees.

Alina kept it up for as long as she could, as their Squallers pushed harder and sent the Volkvolny simply flying over the water, away from the Fjerdans. And when it dropped, she nearly screamed to see Sturmhond sat down on the deck, looking quite surprised as he held his bleeding shoulder. His eyes were wide, unfocused as the pain undoubtedly made his thoughts phase in and out of focus.

Alina was sure that she heard him murmur a quiet ‘ow’ before finally, with a strangled shout from her lips, Tolya and Tamar were bounding up to them.

They wasted no time as Tolya hefted Sturmhond up and led him to his cabin, Alina hot on their heels. Tolya only attempted to shut her out once, before she gave a frankly murderous look and the Heartrender apparently got the message.

He was too busy trying to keep the captain alive, anyways.

They did have a Healer on board, but Alina suspected that because of Sturmhond’s hidden identity, they didn’t want word about it getting out if Tolya’s Tailoring faded in the healing process.

The twins hovered too closely to Sturmhond for her to watch them work. So Alina paced back and forth near the table, hands clenched tightly in the fabric of her shirt. And Tolya seemed to take forever, as Tamar pointed out flaws in a nervous voice and prodded at her brother in agitated annoyance.

Finally, when Alina couldn’t take it any longer, she snapped. “Go get an actual Healer, Tamar.”

The Heartrender glanced up at her sharply. “We can’t. Sturmhond is… a special case.”

“I know.” Alina felt like she was going to itch herself out of her skin. “But either the prince of Ravka is going to be exposed one more face to be saved, or in the best case scenario he will lose some feeling or coordination in his right arm. I really think he’d appreciate that he’s simply in one piece, and if not he is clever enough to talk himself out of whatever situation he might find himself in.”

The twins glanced at each other. “How do you know about that?” Tamar hissed at her, eyes blazing with a protective light. Alina was sure that the same light was shining right back at her.

“Call me a time traveller. Now are you going to get a Healer or not?”

“Tell me.”

“Tamar Kir-Baatar, I will get the man himself if you don’t move this instant. I will explain later, but I think we have more pressing matters to attend to.”

She glared at Alina for a moment, but then rushed out the door. Things were silent for just a few moments before Sturmhond let out a pained noise, and then Alina had to dig her teeth into her lip to keep herself from rushing over to him. Tolya had put him under, slowing his heart rate so that the wound didn’t bleed so much, but still there was enough pain to reach through his unconscious state.

But eventually, the Healer rushed in through the door, nudging Tolya aside to work on the captain.

And with a reassurance that his life wasn't in danger, Alina wavered on her feet and fell into one of the chairs at Sturmhond's table. She put her head in her hands and took a deep breath, two, three, before her exhaustion caught up to her and she nearly tumbled to the ground. She would have, if it wasn't for Tamar standing in front of her, waiting to catch her.

"What do you know on Sturmhond?" The Heartrender's eyes were still almost spitting mad, locked onto her own.

Alina sighed and pushed herself up to sit properly. She spared a glance at the Healer still working on him. And then she closed her eyes, and spoke quietly. "I've lived through several lives, Tamar. For whatever reason, the universe keeps resetting me, to start again from some point before I first met the Darkling, and subsequently killed him. In my most recent past life, I was…"

She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "I was Nikolai's Queen. I served on this ship for years, we started our relationship here, before his parents were assassinated and his brother brutally maimed. And then he took me to Os Alta to take the throne."

Tamar frowned. "That's one of the most far fetched lies I've ever heard."

"I know you think it's nothing more than that, Tamar. But please. I could give you a pretty damn accurate description of what my- well, what  _ this _ life looked like before I came here, and I can tell you that there's no possible way that I came across the information while traveling. I grew up in Keramzin before coming straight here, through the Fold itself. Who in a place like that would prince Nikolai have people?"

The Heartrender shifted uncomfortably on her feet, glancing up at her twin who seemed rather thoughtful beside her.

“We’ll talk to him once he’s recovered.”

Tamar nodded once in agreement, and after a moment or two Alina turned and put her head on her arms, watching the Healer work over Nikolai before her eyes closed and she slipped into a worried slumber.

~~~

She awoke again before Nikolai did.

Unfortunately her body was still exhausted from the Tidemaking she had done, but she was rested enough to keep her eyes open and alert. Now she was sat beside the captain’s bed, idly resting as she waited - the Healer had done a good job. There was only a raised, circular ridge where the lucky bullet had pierced his shoulder. A major artery had been hit, but Tolya had been quick enough to close it before the Healer had gotten there, and not too much blood had been lost.

For right now, Ilana was running the ship. And all there was to do was wait.

Alina had too much time to think.

She thought about blue eyes, of grey, of the hazel she loved so much. She’d loved so much. She’d lost so much, the weight of her years was a ton of bricks on her chest, a struggle for her to bear alone.

Was this feeling the one that the Darkling had feared so much, when she had cut into his heart that first time? She could see why he feared it now.

But there was no escape for her. She was bound to this eternity, and as far as she knew… unless Alina tore the universe itself apart, piece by piece, there was no way that she could pass on to whatever afterlife there was. Or maybe there was in fact no end, and she would live like this for the rest of her memories.

She desperately hoped she didn't. She wasn't sure how long she could stay sane for like that. Already it felt like she was starting to slip.

Then Nikolai stirred slightly, a groan at his lips. Alina turned towards him, a weary look in her eyes as she watched his eyes flutter open.

And then they were stuck onto her. He must have known that the Tailoring that Tolya had done had faded by now, because he simply raised an eyebrow and spoke in a rough voice that came with his first waking.

“I suppose the twins decided to trust you, hm?”

Alina reached out, brushing a lock of hair back. He looked so young like this. “Nikolai, I’m not sure how long I can stay here.”

“Why?” He pushed himself up, his torso still bare, and took hold of her arm. Holding her close, holding her steady. “You’ve seen just how much better we do with you here, Alina. I won’t stand to lose my Sun Summoner so easily.”

Having him so close sent her heart racing with an agonizing ache. Already tears were gathering in her eyes, but Nikolai wouldn’t let go. She gasped once and then leaned against him, avoiding the sore shoulder he had been left with.

“The Darkling will be coming to collect me, once he hears of this.”

He hummed quietly. “I don’t think that the Darkling will touch a prince of his country.”

“He’ll kill you. He doesn’t care, once he has me, if he can get an amplifier on me he has the potential to take control of my power.” It was an easier answer than the rest of everything. Trying to explain everything else throughout the years. “Once he has me, he’ll use the Fold. Expand it into areas where he meets resistance.”

“He can do that? How do you know?”

“Trust me.”

“I’m not sure if I can.”

“Please, Nikolai.”

“Why should I? You’ve been avoiding me on this ship ever since I brought you onto the Volkvolny, and now I find you waiting over me. Knowing my name, my title, things about the Darkling. Where did you come from, Alina?”

She looked up, tears running down her cheeks as she met the gaze of his hazel eyes. “Keramzin,” she whispered.

But he simply frowned, staring into her guilty eyes. “No, you didn’t. There’s more to it than that.”

“I did. If you follow my trail backwards, that’s where it leads,” she said hoarsely. “But that’s… that’s only in this life.”

“What do you mean, that’s only in this life?”

How many times would she have to explain? Would it be easier to simply hide everything away, stash it into a dusty corner of her mind and try to forget?

“This is now my fifth time living the same life. I’ve killed the Darkling, I’ve died on the Fold, I’ve died in his arms- the most recent I was given a drug that made my powers unbearably powerful.” She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes as her chest contracted and she choked on her words, remembering little Ana’s screams. “I was-… you were… my- my daughter was caught too close, and I…”

And Nikolai softened slightly. “Alina…”

A soft sob tore through her, and she sat back and covered her eyes with her free hand. “I- Nikolai, I’ve avoided you because I need to be here, but I- it hurts so much to be close to you when you don’t know.”

“When I don’t know what? I don’t understand what you’re saying.” His other hand came up, forcing her to look at him as she tried to blink away her tears.

Her hand gripped his and a soft wail warbled out of her. “You- you were my husband, Nikolai. Ana was  _ ours, _ and I nearly- I nearly killed little Ana because of that drug and I… I  _ can’t. _ I don’t know what to do when you’re here and so familiar but you’re not  _ him.” _

“Oh,” he breathed. But then, “Alina, how am I supposed to trust you? How do I know that you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t,” she hiccuped. “You don’t, I’m sorry.” There were little things that she could tell him - little stories from his childhood that in the past, things he had told her to make sure she had something to gain his trust in lives to come. But they were too painful to speak of, at least right now. She couldn’t when everything was still so tender and sore.

Then the door opened to admit the twins, who froze - seeing Alina and Nikolai sitting so close together, tears in the Sun Summoner’s eyes as she abruptly tried to contain her sobs.

“Sir,” Tamar said carefully. “I assume that she’s told you about her… apparent background?”

Nikolai nodded slowly. “Will you take her to her bunk, Tamar? Our Sun Summoner seems to be rather tired, I’d like for her to rest for a while. What’s been happening since our escape?”

Tolya stepped forward to answer him, as Nikolai released her and nudged her towards Tamar. It didn’t seem like Alina was going to be a prisoner on the ship, but it was clear that he did want her to be watched.

And she was rather tired anyway. So Alina let Tamar lead the way to the rest of the crew’s bunks, the Heartrender watching warily as she sat herself down on the bed that she had made more than a day ago now. Alina closed her eyes, her heart still aching as it pounded away in her chest, tears just waiting for their chance to flow once more.

“Tamar?”

“Yes, Sun Summoner?” Once, she had been Sankta Alina. Then they had become friends, and it had just been Alina. When tattoos had already covered the twin’s skin, when Mal had scored his back with something almost like a compass.

_ I am become blade. _

“Thank you,” she whispered. A thanks for something lost past, for faith that had been given in a past life. For service that had saved her life, her country and home, so many times. A thanks that would be lost on this Tamar, who had never seen the horrors the Darkling was capable of. A Tamar who, likely, would never connect so thoroughly with Nadia, who was still friends with Marie, who was likely still dancing around her attraction to Sergei.

The Heartrender simply shrugged. “Tolya did most of the work saving the captain, at least before Sargen came around.”

Alina smiled anyway, and laid herself down. “Still.” Her voice was a whisper now, as she turned onto her other side to face away from Tamar. To allow the tears to flow silently.

It was only a minute or two before she was left alone to rest, her heart heavy. She prayed for a sleep free from nightmares.

~~~

Sturmhond kept his distance from her now. And while it made the ache in her chest easier some days, other times watching the way he glanced so warily at her made her want to scream.

But she couldn’t blame him.

So she continued her work as he wanted her to, as she continued to practice her Tidemaking. She got stronger with it, and she found that her light summoning did as well. Stretching herself in other ways was apparently a good way to make herself stronger all around, which she was quietly thankful for.

Part of her still planned on destroying the Fold. And even still, with the power of her past lives behind her, she knew it wasn’t enough to tear apart the darkness of it. If she had to go through and learn all of the Grisha orders, their specific abilities one by one, she would. She would do it without half a thought. If only to destroy the Fold herself, to destroy the weapon the Darkling wanted to use so badly, to destroy the thing that was slowly choking the life out of her country.

So with her goal in mind, she stayed. She stayed with Sturmhond’s distrust, she stayed with the knowledge of the Darkling’s imminent approach. She stayed and learned with Ilana, she served her part in attacks, and she lived on.

Days passed, and it seemed like the rest of the crew grew away from her. It was as if they could feel their captain’s wariness around her. It wasn’t a huge change, it was just a hesitation to their words as she approached, the quietly unsettled looks that they gave her. Alina didn’t mind so much - it stung, but not as much as the things in her past. Those things had numbed her, though sometimes she woke up with an urge to curl up with Nikolai so strong that it nearly forced her dinner up her throat. She missed him so much.

On those days, she didn’t talk much.

In fact, she generally started to talk less and less, unless she was with Ilana. The Tidemaker seemed to be the only one who didn’t care about the rumors starting to fly around the ship, shrugging them off as the inevitable entertainment of bored crewmates.

“What the hell happened with you and the captain after the attack? You disappeared into his cabin for damn near a full day and afterwards it’s like he will do nearly anything to avoid the subject of you.” Ilana asked her one day, leaning against the railing of the deck as the two women stared down into the water.

“We, ah… have history. He just can’t remember it.” That would be taken the wrong way, and Alina knew. It was easier to explain than the real thing.

Ilana raised an eyebrow at her, tossing back her deep brown hair. “Really? You and Sturmhond.”

“Is it so hard to think so?”

“Alina, Sturmhond doesn’t exactly… well, he almost never takes lovers. Never gets blackout drunk like that, either, if that’s what it was. You sure he’s the right guy?”

The Sun Summoner nodded, staring at the water as she pulled up little waves that were quickly destroyed by the ship’s wake. She didn’t get so tired by it these days. “How much do you know about Sturmhond’s past, Ilana?”

“No one really knows much about him. He doesn’t talk about it.”

“Well, I knew him… before this. Before he became a privateer.” A bold lie, she knew, but it was the only way that Alina could gently tell Ilana that she knew who the real Sturmhond was.

But the Tidemaker simply raised an eyebrow. “Oh. So you know…?”

She nodded.

“Damn. And he thinks he’s so clever.”

“He is, don’t worry.” Alina chuckled.

“So you only found out after he got shot?”

“Pretty much. I had… hunches, before.”

“I guess his personality is pretty distinct, huh?” Ilana chuckled, shaking her head. “So what’s the story?”

“I…” Alina let her hand drop. “I don’t…”

“Eh, it’s fine.” She shrugged, turning her back on the water to watch the crew work. “If the story is going to be a problem, you’re fine. As long as you don’t pose a threat to him, that is. The crew is rather attached.”

“He’s not in any danger from me,” Alina said softly, her voice dropping to a fierce murmur. “I can promise you that. And I’ll cut down anyone that tries to harm him.”

Ilana nodded seriously, staring into Alina’s eyes for several moments before looking away again. “Good. You do know how to fight, then?”

“Of course. And even if I didn’t, I would use the Cut to make sure that whoever it is won’t get up.” She was speaking in all seriousness, no matter how death might disgust her. If she had any choice in the matter, she would never see Nikolai fall by anyone’s hand.

The only response that she had gotten from the Tidemaker was a low hum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as always, comments/feedback/general screeching is always welcomed and appreciated here or on my tumblr... and a huge thanks to those who came to scream at me when I posted the last chapter, I got a giggle out of your responses xD
> 
> Also, would you guys be interested in seeing the playlist that I generally listen to for this story? Would it help for getting into the Mood™ for this fic?


	10. If Only to Continue On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina fails just once more, and then she goes on. And on, and on. Until she can go no more, and she must turn back to her goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I just like, can't. This chapter was giving me a lot of feels, and I hope that I got it down well enough for it to carry over to readers T~T
> 
> Buuut so uh, I know that no one really asked for it but [this is the playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8L67FWSM2zRQLXYwOZql_y4Drb3zzfac) that I listen to the most when writing this, I just threw all the songs on YouTube to share so 030 I might add in a spotify playlist if yall want later on.

When the Darkling finally found them, it was on the coast of West Ravka. Alina was still on the ship when a commotion started, and she saw clouds of shadow that made her blood freeze in her veins.

Sturmhond and the rest of the crew that had gone to buy new supplies had come rushing back to the Volkvolny, and they had cast off right away with the Darkling’s crew on their tails. Alina felt heavy with guilt. No one was going to survive this encounter if she didn’t do something. But upon Sturmhond’s request, she held herself until they were out of the harbor, out of the bay and on the open sea. They had Squallers trained to get the ship speeding through the water, they’d be miles away by the time the Darkling could even get his own ship, and his own Squallers wouldn’t know how to cooperate with a crew well enough to follow quickly.

“You know he won’t stop hunting for us until he gets me,” Alina said as she dropped into the seat next to his. She hadn’t bothered to be invited into his cabin, catching the captain somewhat off guard.

Sturmhond glanced at her. “Now Alina, you say that as if you have experience.”

“I  _ do,” _ she growled. “More than you know. And I know how much death follows in his wake when he finds me.”

“Then it seems like a fairly simple matter of making sure that he doesn’t find you. You’ve been hiding the ship for months, Alina - I think you’re capable of keeping us hidden if any unknown ships come by.”

He was too calm.

“What do you have planned, Nikolai?”

The privateer prince sighed, set down the book he had been flipping through, and turned to face her properly. “Well, if you must know, I still don’t entirely trust you. Fair? So we will be keeping hidden through your abilities until I can determine whether or not you’ve earned my trust.”

His words stung more than she could have expected. But she took a moment to take a deep breath, to calm herself before responding.

A curt nod as she rose to her feet again. “Very well, captain.”

And she walked out once more, the door shutting behind her quietly.

~~~

One way or another, the Darkling found them. And he caught them will awful precision.

In the middle of an attack, a black wave washed over them, pulling the light that Alina had been bending away from her fingertips. The fight had stopped then, until someone had snatched her, curled her arms behind her back and dragged her across to the other ship and dumped her at the feet of the Darkling. They were given just enough light within the darkness to see where they were going, and Alina's shouts were lost between those of the rest of the crew.

The moment her hands were free, she flung them upwards, outwards to dispel the darkness. They were caught, it didn't matter if the Darkling already knew that she was there.

He looked at her, appraising, and she stared back with tears in her eyes. She wanted to crawl into his embrace and forget everything that had happened to her. But this wasn't Aleksander, the man she had loved when she ruled beside Nikolai. This was the Darkling, treacherous and plotting and not to be trusted, evil in his intent, thirsting for no more than power.

So Alina stumbled to her feet, turning to look at the Volkvolny where Sturmhond stood with his knuckles white with the grip he had on the railing. And then she looked at the crew that had already jumped aboard this ship, her voice heavy.

"Go back," she called, voice breaking. "Retreat."

The crew was stuck in place for a moment. Her word, their Sun Summoner that they didn't quite know if they should trust, versus the word of their captain who stood frozen.

"Go back!" She shouted it again, and tears slipped down her face.

This time Ilana echoed the call. And finally Sturmhond's crew started moving. Scrambling back to the safety of the Volkvolny once again, Alina waited until they were all back and watching her.

"Well, little Sun Summoner. You've been avoiding me." There was humor in the Darkling's words, a low kind of annoyance, almost anger. Then his voice raised in an order of his own. "Inferni. Burn it."

The Volkvolny. She let out a pained cry - she had sworn that no one would touch Nikolai. But how could she cut down the other man she had loved so dearly? It was as if she was feeling the weight of Grisha steel in her hand again.

How? How was she supposed to choose between the two of them? To either see Nikolai burn on the ship with the flammable, sticky tar that wouldn’t stop burning until it was completely submerged, the great white sails that would crackle and rain ash down to the deck - 

Her arm swung, and the deck of the ship cracked beneath her feet with a deafening sound. She screamed her anguish, falling against the Darkling as the ship broke in two, bucking beneath them.

She managed to grab onto him, to see the very real fear in his eyes, before she pressed her lips to his. "I love you, but I can't let you do this."

"What-" their words were cut off as the ship again buckled. Water was rushing up to meet them, a wreckage of the ship coming down on top of them as the weakened timbers cracked.

Alina kissed him again with a sob and she felt half numb lips move against hers, anger and fear slipping through their connection.

And then they hit water, cold and jarring. Alina held onto him for dear life, her hands locked in bunches of his kefta, and after just a moment his arms came to lock around her in turn. They were sucked under the surface with the current the rapidly sinking ship produced, and Alina was barely able to suck in a breath beforehand.

From there, all she could feel was cold. Cold that stiffened her fingers and weakened her grip, cold that made her chest ache, cold that filled her lungs as she felt currents that she wasn't sure were from a Tidemaker or the other half of the ship.

All she knew was cold, and pain, a dull sense of panic, until she slipped away.

_ You were meant to save him. _

~~~

This time she awoke in Poliznaya, the military encampment where her and Mal had signed on together. Alina kissed him once before gathering what meager supplies she had and leaving him stunned in her wake as she bent the light around her and walked back out.

Technically, it was desertion. She could be killed for this. But she knew how to hide, she'd been doing it for her entire life - she walked without fear.

This time Alina didn't have a destination in mind. She didn't have a place to go. She didn't have familiar faces to find, familiar places to see.

This time she was a wanderer.

She still worked on her summoning as a Tidemaker. It was a safer bet than using her light and making herself a beacon for trouble. And she decided that she needed teachers - so she kept her ears open for whispers of rogue Grisha. And she found whispers, but not much more. Urban legends, usually. Tales of local Grisha that still haunted towns decades after their death, things people used to scare children into bed.

But eventually she found a teacher.

A Heartrender. The whispers were of a girl so dangerous that not even the Darkling wanted her.

If it was true, Alina could learn from her. She knew she could.

The person she found was a girl with silver eyes, who was barely tall enough to reach Alina's sternum. Sometimes her name was Danna, or Dare, or something else. She was immensely dangerous, volatile with her powers.

But Danna herself was a gentle soul, and so was the man caring for her. A Heartrender and an Inferni.

Danna taught her, though it was shaky and hard to understand at first. But Alina understood enough, and within a few years she could feel the systems of a body, she could slow the rhythm of the heart into sleep. She'd done so enough on her teacher, when the woman needed rest.

Her husband always thanked her for it, with small smiles and nods of his head as he made the two of them tea.

“It means a lot, that she can sleep,” he told her once. “Sometimes she’s scared to go to bed, worried that she’ll lose track of her days and forget what happened between one and the next.”

“Of course,” she had murmured over the rim of her cup. “It’s the least I can do to repay my teacher.”

But eventually Alina left.

She found another teacher. This time a Durast named Ferden, who made beautiful things from glass that would never shatter. Ferden who was partially blind, who flinched at unexpected noises and movements, who held her hands with his own shaking fingers as he quietly taught her to bend glass, how to bend steel and other medals. How to combine them on such a small level that they were impossible to differentiate.

Alina ached for Ferden, whose smiles were shy as he moved around his space with a grace born of knowing where each and every thing he needed was. She showed him her light, cautiously, and he pressed his fingers into her palms with innocent wonder in his cloudy eyes as he brought them to his face. Then he smiled at her, wrapped her up into a hug as he sat on the floor with her. So surprised, so proud, though Alina could never figure out why. Why should he be proud of something that she had been born with, something that could have landed on anybody's shoulders? 

He'd never explained that to her.

The next week there was an attack, and with bright flashes of light she cut down the men that tried to destroy the home of innocent Ferden. Maybe they were Fjerdan, maybe they weren’t. She just knew that they had come to hurt him, and her heart ached to see the hopeless fear on his face.

He had brushed fingers over her cheeks afterwards, brought his face in close - close enough to hers to seem like a lover. Remembering her face, making sure that he had her features memorized. She found that they were both familiar with running, with goodbyes. So the next morning, when fires still smoldered in the town and the bodies of the fallen were still being buried and burned, he touched his lips to her forehead and murmured a farewell.

"Be… be careful, Alina. Don't get caught by the wrong person."

She didn't have the heart to tell him what she planned to do. So she nodded, drew her arms carefully tight around his scarred body and then stepped away.

"I'll meet you again, Ferden. I will."

His smile was sad. He knew when to doubt.

_ Save him. _

~~~

Alina lived many lives.

It was harder to find teachers when she came close to Os Alta, to the interior of Ravka. Stray and rogue Grisha seemed to be determined to disperse themselves around the borders despite the risks. Alina couldn't quite figure out if it was because the others simply preferred to live in the smallest towns possible or if they were forced to live where the Darkling couldn't effectively reel them in.

She didn't tell her story to others, now. Sometimes she spent her lifetimes simply wandering, going from place to place to learn of her people. The Ravkan people that she had once ruled, the people she had a feeling would forever change her.

She spent nights on the streets, nights under the cover of nothing but the stars. She spent nights in inns and taverns, once even a brothel that had finally lured her in. She didn't regret the night, though the experience of having a stranger give her pleasure wasn't one that she would repeat.

Alina both loved and abhorred her eternal youth, the familiar faces she found her way back to time and time again.

She often went back to meet Danna and Ferden both. Ferden was always a quick friend, a lonely boy that valued the quiet comfort of having someone near.

Almost every time, Alina was found by the Darkling. Or she knew that he was coming for her shortly after her Sun Summoner ability was exposed in one way or another. Time and time again, she ripped herself apart before he could take advantage of her. Before she would have to look at those grey eyes too closely and feel her heart break all over again.

Her next teacher was Aneyd, an Alchemi that seemed absolutely delighted at her ability to show different Grisha abilities. Alina had to stop the woman from experimenting on her, a few different times, before Aneyd agreed to teach her.

She was quite the student, though Alina decided that was likely because of the similarities between what an Alchemi did and what a Durast did. It was still, at the base level of things, only tweaking what matter did and how it blended together. And besides, Aneyd was also one hell of a teacher. Within a few months she was able to make herself her own materials, which she could use her abilities as a Durast to continue to use in other ways.

It was perhaps the most useful mixture of skills she’d run into for quite a while.

Until Aneyd went missing, showing up several days later beaten and bloodied by the nearby town.

Alina knew that she would be next, an attack from severely uneasy townspeople having to come soon. So she prepared herself, cursing her lack of knowledge of how to heal the painfully wounded Alchemi. Aneyd stayed in her bed, wheezing with every breath and cursing viciously every time a cough was forced out of her and made her fractured and broken ribs shift. Alina couldn’t move her, not without the risk of causing some internal bleeding that she wasn’t sure she would be able to stop.

So when the townspeople came, Alina fought. Not in the way that she expected she would have to, thankfully, because they saw her light and swayed in their advance. Alina’s light poured over them, a stranger summoning something that could break any darkness, and she saw a few of them drop to their knees.

The superstition that had gotten them to attack a generally harmless Alchemi had them dropping to their knees in the snow in the face of a Saint.

“Why did you attack Aneyd?” Alina spoke then, her hands still red with her teacher’s blood even as her voice found a serene tone. “Why must you resort to violence to end her?”

A few cried out, fearing that this Saint might strike them down. She couldn’t hear the answer of one over another, so she sighed and the light flared brighter.

“Forgive her,” Alina said. “And forgive yourselves. Care for her, and she will care for you for years to come.”

“Yes, Sankta!” It was a cry that was echoed through the small group.

Then she let her light fade, slowly dying out until it was no more than a faint glow around her figure. If it meant finding Aneyd treatment, she would gladly play the part of a Saint for this small town.

And it worked. The Alchemi was nursed to health by the very people who had attacked her in the first place, and she rolled her eyes and huffed more often than not, but Alina knew that she was thankful. And she protected the secret of Alina’s summoning, the fact that she was also nothing but another Grisha. Not that Aneyd believed that herself.

But now she was in danger, as were the rest of the residents of the town. But the safest thing that Alina could do was disappear, so she did so.

She announced her leaving, smiled at the assembled townspeople, and ‘disappeared’ with a flash of light before Sankta Alina bent the light around her and slipped from the town, carrying on to the next town before anyone could stop her. She could only hope that they would continue to care for Aneyd after her departure, that they would keep to the instructions of their Saint and at least try to stop their distrust of the Grisha.

~~~

In all her travels, there would only been one other man that had garnered her attention, her affection. A powerful Corporalki, a Heartrender turned Healer in the ruins of what was once a town.

People told ghost stories of the town, how one night there had been an attack that left the entire valley it was settled in ablaze. How in the morning, the bodies of the attackers had been found, scattered and burned and twisted into terrifyingly unnatural positions, a small army that should have never fallen to such a small town. How ever since that day, snow never seemed to touch the ground, staying in an eternal lush spring.

His name was Aiku, a man of many nationalities that seemed to have no definitive heritage, a man that grinned often but smiled rarely. He reminded her of Zoya with his insufferable ego, sometimes, or of Nikolai and his delighted eccentricity others.

His mind seemed to change with the wind, turning him from a wild boy running through the ashes of his home with laughter in his lungs to a man who had lost more than he could ever know staring out at the burnt husks of what was left, to a terrified animal that struck out with screams that felt too familiar to Alina. She never found out much about him, his life before, though he told her stories about a sister occasionally.

She never quite knew if the girl had been real.

But in return, he drew her story out of her, the many devastating years that she had been traveling and learning. He took her hands between his own as she showed him the light in her palm, and he laughed himself hoarse.

He had kissed her then, hand sliding into her hair and a tongue that was too clever for its own good sliding through her lips.

He had given her a sly smirk, a hint of a laugh as he nestled his face between her legs and worked at her until she became a puddle underneath him.

It was only afterwards when he settled himself on top of her, still clothed and hard and needy, did he reward her with one of his rare smiles. One of his soft expressions, eyes faintly crinkling at the corners, at ease and truly happy. He had whispered sweet little nothings to her, teaching her to reach inside to feel his heartbeat thrumming, to feel everything in the body working together just through the heart.

He was an odd man, to be sure, but... Sometimes her heart ached for him, to see his shockingly blue eyes again. It had been so hard to say goodbye when she had lost her game of hide and seek from the Darkling.

“They’re on their way now,” he whispered to her. “I felt them in the hills.”

She gave a shuddered sigh. “How long?”

“They’ll be coming tonight, probably.” He took her face between his hands, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Alina, promise me.”

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t come back.”

Her heart broke at his words. “Why?”

“I don’t want you to be a stranger to me.”

She’d cracked under the weight of his words, but she had promised. He’d been the one to hold her hand, the one to cause her heart to seize up, to stop in her chest, saying that he couldn’t stand to see her own light tear her apart from the inside out.

~~~

After him, Alina had two more teachers. A man whose names constantly alluded her, that she settled for calling Wietry, or  _ windy _ in Fjerdan. He’d been a Squaller, a terribly hyperactive man who never seemed to sleep unless Alina herself dragged him to his bed.

And after him was a woman who called herself Furia, an Inferni with a talent for not only spreading fire, but training dogs. Her house was constantly overrun by pups of all ages, though she was apparently in complete control of them at all times. Alina picked up quite a lot of miscellaneous knowledge from the woman that she wasn’t sure she would use much in the future.

But after everything, even after knowing that there wasn’t much more she could do, she travelled for a while longer. She found her way through Shu Han, picking up the language and learning the odd tradition or two, before doing the same for Fjerda.

Alina found that she had stopped fearing death almost completely. Unless she had something specific to do, something that she had to do in one specific life, she didn’t care if she died. She had a thousand lives stretching before her after all, a hundred lives behind her. Death was a familiar concept to her now, she knew exactly what it felt like to have life drain from her limbs, from her heart the second before cold took her.

So she took everything that life threw at her. She bent life to her own will. She spent no moment feeling miserable, knowing that she would do better next time.

And she avoided the valley where snow never seemed to touch, where she wished Aiku would still be waiting for her. She avoided the port towns along the True Sea where she wished she could still walk up the Volkvolny’s gangplank into Sturmhond’s arms. She avoided Os Alta, where a man of shadows waited for a Sun Summoner, where she wished she could still crawl into a bed big enough to fit three. Where her heart still clenched painfully when she thought of a little girl with nearly white blonde hair.

She avoided and avoided and avoided, until she could no longer remember what it felt like to hurt. Alina ran from such things until it felt as if she would meet every person in the country of Ravka, know each and every person’s name. She knew hundreds of people scattered throughout the world, and yet she yearned only for three. Mal was still a familiar face, the one that she could never avoid.

Alina once settled in a small town, where she found a boy in the clutches of his slowly fading mother. A mother who asked if she would take the boy, handing him off as he cried, until her hands went still and a pained smile was left on her face.

So Alina spent a full lifetime watching the boy grow. For the first time in so many lives, she allowed herself to settle down and watch life happen around her. She stayed, and she waved away the whispers of the townspeople as they watched her stay so young as Misha, her son, grew. What they would do to her didn’t scare her, not anymore. She had grown from her fear of death, her fear of pain.

She stayed and she stayed, as the town grew old around her. As Misha became a man, and married, and brought his own children into the home he shared with Alina and his wife still.

She stayed until a man that had grown old enough to retire from the military came to settle down in the small town.

A man with blue eyes, with hair that was more grey than brown now. A man with a beautiful wife and curls that were also turning silver, blue eyes sharp as always. Alina nearly laughed, nearly cried when she saw them. She cursed the universe, thanked the world for bringing Mal here. She hated it, to see him grow old after seeing him young for a few days at a time at the beginning of every one of her lives. But she loved the way he smiled and patted Zoya’s hand, the Squaller having grown out of her petulance with her age. Mostly, at least.

It was a wonder that he recognized her, when they finally spoke.

“Oh! Alina, is that you? You- you look like you haven’t aged a day.” He smiled, his eyes fixed on hers. “Really. You don’t. How… how is that?”

She smiled in return, took his hand in her own. “Oh, Mal… I don’t know. It’s a mystery, even to myself. I simply… haven’t.”

“And I thought I was supposed to be the good looking one,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s what you were always saying, anyway.”

“You still are, Mal.” Alina laughed as well. “Where is your wife? I’d like to meet her.”

He gave her a smile, too tired to be mischievous even as he tried. “Finally going to give her your stamp of approval, hm?”

“Of course. Even if we spent a few years apart, I’d make sure that my best friend has only the best.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

And she followed him to Zoya, who was browsing through the goods of a farmer that stared at her as if she was the moon - something that the Squaller has no doubt always been used to. Even now, in her age, she was radiant and perfect. And even now she would roll her eyes with the perfect balance of annoyance and affection in that odd way of hers.

Alina started to think that maybe, it was time to return and remember her friends. But that meant facing the Darkling once more. She remembered her goal to destroy the Fold for good, and part of her wondered if she could do so now. It had been quite a long time since she truly stretched herself and seen just what her light can do.

But she waited, until Misha was ready at least. She stayed through the days of having tea with Mal and Zoya, the days of watching her granddaughter grow up strong and happy. Five, ten, almost fifteen years before finally Mal drew his last breath with his best friend and his ever-beautiful wife present.

Alina shed her tears silently, holding onto the blue-eyed Grisha beside her as the woman sobbed with her grief. But she knew that she would see Mal again soon, and maybe… maybe, she could love him one more time before she moved onto the Darkling again.

~~~

_ Save him. He needs to be. _

~~~

She was indeed successful at destroying the Fold.

All it took was a flood of light, and the darkness was torn apart. The wash of heat lit up the country from end to end, a terrifying burst that came in the night. People woke up, fearing an attack that might have come, the light a precursor to explosions.

But in the morning, the Fold was gone. The bodies of the volcra were charred and burnt from the heat that had come with the light, some of them still twitching and trying to bury themselves under the colorless sand that had been left behind. People found a young woman, her skin still glowing slightly, and her features were that of an ordinary girl. Dark circles beneath her eyes, her body too light for her age. And she was hailed as a Saint.

She didn’t wake for weeks.

And when she did, she was weak and shaking, though breathless laughter shook her to the core when she was told of her success.

She’d done it. And her sweetheart stood beside her, holding onto her hand as he looked at her with a mixture of fear and awe. Alina ignored that look, ignored how awfully familiar it looked even after all these years, all these lives.

Two hundred and sixty-eight years old, and she still lived in the body of a weak seventeen year old girl who, despite being Grisha, was still bedraggled with sallow skin. She wasn’t beautiful, like she would be when she started properly using her abilities. The many, many things she could do now.

When the Darkling finally got to her, to see her sitting sprawled in her sweetheart’s lap, foreheads pressed together with sweet smiles on both of their lips - well. She allowed her smile to curve a little more, allowed a laugh.

“I destroyed it. I am the most powerful Grisha that you will ever see, Aleksander - and I will save you, in time. I can promise you that.”

If she was correct, if she could still read him after all this time, she could almost say that he was scared.

But she lived the rest of her life.

She visited the King and the Queen, just in time to stop an assassination, and the people were awed at her ability to know the coming danger before it even started. She used the status she gained from that moment, nudging pieces into place until Nikolai was placed on the throne. Sankta Alina spared one smile for the young king before she disappeared, though years later she was found once more with her husband.

Mal was as prickly as ever about the status and attention given to Alina, though this time around she wasn’t a possible Queen. She was simply a Saint, one that people travelled to, if only to see her. To give her gifts, offerings, children to heal with hopeful eyes. She healed as much as she was able, though sometimes it was not enough.

She did much for her people. As much as she could.

And once again, one day she woke up and had to watch her sweetheart breathe his last breath. But this time she let her tears flow properly. She walked among the people of Ravka in her grief, and this time she was the one giving gifts and offerings to those that offered to even try to heal her of her pain. She didn’t need their healing, but neither did she have a need for all the things that had been given to her now.

And when she was ready, when she was sure that she had done all she could, she started over once more. Sure in the conviction that she could do what the universe had wanted from her all these years, all these lives.

She would save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also HI can I say that. I know that you guys didn't really get to see any of her teachers, but I adore every single one of them (especially Ferden and Aiku, they are my babies) and if anyone is interested in them I am 100% up to explaining into their relationships with Alina cause. Hhhhhh.
> 
> Anyway, I probably won't be uploading another chapter for a little bit cause I'm... unfortunately a little bit burnt out from writing + holiday rush + retail work rn. But! It should only be a week at the most, and then I'll get the last few chapters out for ya'll :)
> 
> ~~PS. if I accidentally forgot to edit out any random switches from post to present tense plz tell me because I might have grown up with English but I'm a dumbass and my writing goes everywhere sometimes~~


	11. At the Beginning Once More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina has a plan this time. She will have to use everything at her disposal to get to her goal, and she is determined to go through with it. She will save the Darkling. She will save Aleksander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm an idiot. I was literally too dead from all the holiday stuff that I didn't realize that I had uploaded a copy chapter. So uhhhhhh to make up for that! You guys get two chapters tonight. I'm sorry, please don't judge my dumb ass.

Poliznaya.

Four months or so before they made their way to Kribirsk.

Alina gathered her things, left without a word in the middle of the night with a smile on her face. After her last life, it was almost difficult for her to keep the shine from her skin - destroying the Fold had been incredibly taxing on her, but she had pushed her limits to new heights that she hadn’t been able to reach with even all her training in the other aspects of the Small Science.

But she managed, and as she wandered through the country Alina prepared herself. Aiku had honed her Corporalki skills into quite the useful tool, allowing her to identify heartbeats and warm bodies from a distance.

She used this to avoid people. To avoid those who might expose her. And she used it to hunt, to find herself food to eat, enough that she would be fit and beautiful by the time she found her way to the Darkling. Bemused, she thought that maybe he would enjoy the rugged touch to her beauty that came with the furs to keep her warm during the chill nights.

So she waited those four months. She waited until she was sure of her own physical ability, until she was sure that she had the story behind her set and ready to be told. Not the story of her many lives - no, she was aiming to become the Darkling’s Heartrender. She was going to tell the story of a girl born far away, in isolation, that had an amazing amount of natural talent. A family that had died, that had sent her away to seek out the most powerful Grisha she could.

And so, when she found her way to Kribirsk the day before the crossing, no one saw Alina Starkov, the weak deserter girl.

They saw a figure cloaked in furs and walking with a deadly grace. A woman with danger in her eyes and an odd sort of beauty, striding towards the Grisha’s tent even while officers dumbly trailed after her with warnings on their tongues.

The oprichniki only stood up to her for a few moments before they staggered to the side, limbs possessed by a will to move that wasn’t their own.

She swept through the tent, and already the Darkling was striding out with a dangerous look in his eyes as well. He wasn’t pleased with her actions, she knew, but he wouldn’t care when he realized that a powerful Grisha had come to him. She knew him too well, she knew that he would care more about her power than the lives of the men that guarded him.

So when he stopped, inspecting her carefully, she wasn’t surprised when he nodded. “Who are you?”

“Someone you need,” she said callously. Alina knew how to be cruel - and for him, she could act the part.

“You seem very sure of yourself. What is your name?”

“Sol.”

“And where do you come from, Sol?”

She shrugged. “From the east.”

“That’s not very specific.”

“You wouldn’t be able to find the place if I led you there. Everything has been destroyed. It is why I am here, to find the strongest Grisha I can.” She gave him a pointed look. “You seem too fancy to be powerful.”

A faint smile formed on his lips, subtle enough that it looked only like passing amusement - Alina knew that he was just a moment from laughing. “Not every strength is visible, Sol.”

“You wouldn’t last a day alone where I came from.”

He hummed. “Perhaps.”

They had an audience, they both knew. Alina,  _ Sol, _ didn’t care enough to keep herself in line. The Darkling knew better.

So when darkness boomed down around them, and she forced herself to shove her light down even further to keep the glow from her skin, she was ready. When he stepped forward, making to grab her arm, she could feel the faint thrum of his blood in his veins and she instead grabbed his wrist. She had grown strong in her time alone, and even as he strained, he couldn’t move forward or back.

“You are not as powerful as you like to think, it seems.” She laughed to herself, knowing full well that a normal Corporalki shouldn’t have been able to sense him in the dark. “Has a Heartrender ever tried to stop your heart before? I’m sure I could.”

Tension suddenly crackled in the big tent. It was a direct threat to the Grisha’s leader, and while no one held particular affection for him, they were all painfully aware of how important he was to their standing in the country. But she had a part to play, of a girl grown deep in the cruel isolation of the towering mountains to the east. A girl that wouldn’t understand the politics of such things.

Finally, he tugged his arm away from her. She could sense him taking a moment, his heart rate calming down after a couple of breaths taken in.

“What do you want, Sol?” The darkness dissipated, and they were left standing close together, his grey eyes watching her carefully.

“I want somewhere to stay. I’ve noticed that not everyone here in even Ravka are particularly friendly towards Grisha. Particularly Heartrenders.”

He tilted his head, a thoughtful look she knew for a fact was more tailored than not. “I can keep you here, I suppose. With the rest of my Grisha. But you will have to learn manners if you are to stay.”

This time, it was Sol who grinned back at him. For now, she would not be Alina, she couldn’t be. She had to be cruel. “Maybe you people need to learn how to loosen up.”

~~~

She had to allow the crossing to go forward. Even though she knew what would happen, the people she would lose, she couldn’t risk giving herself away this time.

So this time, though her heart sat heavy in her chest, she had to let Mal go.

But she couldn’t show anything when the reports of the casualties came in. She remained stoic, cool, lounging on the soft pillows of the Grisha pavilion with the rest of the Corporalki as she ate food with her fingers. She was still dressed in her roughly made clothes, in her furs, an oddity among the pretty kefta of the rest of them.

And when the reports were all done with, she raised an eyebrow. “There’s monsters in there, and you thought that it would be a smart idea to get such a large group to cross over? You people must be fools.”

Once again, several eyes turned to lock onto her. They thought her barbaric, the way she ate. But the month she’d spent alone, and all the lifetimes before as well, had secured in her a rather convincing argument against silverware.

“West Ravka is still part of our country,” Ivan snapped. “And we need supplies from there.”

She shrugged. “Then secure a way around it. This sea of darkness has to end somewhere, right?”

He snarled back at her, as the Darkling watched as the two of them bickered. “The Fold extends all the way into Fjerda and Shu Han, doing so would cost us hundreds of lives.”

“Then are there shorter ways across? Places where it’s thinner?” Sol pushed herself up to sit with her legs crossed. “You don’t cross a river where it’s going to be the hardest. Why would you cross a dangerous sea of monster-ridden darkness at the thickest point, when you could spend many less lives trying to get across somewhere where it’s only a few kilometers instead of a dozen?”

“Because there isn’t a settlement big enough to receive such a number of soldiers anywhere else along the Fold. There’s nowhere else that’s far enough away from our borders to make sure it won’t be destroyed if the Shu or the Fjerdans come to attack.”

“Then make one.” She rolled her eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “If there’s a more steady amount of soldiers coming through at that point, it’ll be easier to defend from attack. Make ways for you to transport supplies to and from more major settlements. It’s not terribly hard to do something like that.”

Ivan huffed and turned away. “You don’t know anything, outlander.”

“You are fools,” she snapped back.

“She does have a point, though,” the Darkling said in a flat tone. “Yes, Sol, it is foolish that we don’t have other points to send our soldiers across. But that is a decision for the King to make, and we have no control over his whims.”

“Then your King is a fool. Why would you keep him?” She bared her teeth, and the pavilion went dangerously silent. Speaking treason between two or three friends was one thing, but speaking it out loud in public was quite another. But this was Sol, not Alina, and she was pained and angry that no one had ever changed how the military crossed the Fold that had taken her first love, her sweetheart. So she continued. “Dump him off his throne, unless you aren’t strong enough to. There’s no reason for weak fools to be powerful.”

Another moment of silence passed, before the Darkling stood. “Sol, you still have many things to learn. And this is one thing that I suggest you learn quickly - speaking against the King is treason, no matter what your true feelings are on the subject. Those guilty of treason are put to death, one way or another. Understand?”

She stared up at him, still sitting within the comfort of the pillows, contemplating. And after a long moment, she nodded. “Fine. I will play with your rules, Darkling.”

“The correct form of address is  _ moi soverenyi, _ though I suspect that is one you’ll have to learn at a slower pace.” His smile was cruel, cold as ice. And then he turned to go, disappearing back into the little area that he called his own.

Leaving her among the small gathering of red kefta, a little thing of brown, patched-together furs and threadbare clothes that hid away an incredibly powerful Grisha. She remembered when this sort of power had scared her, when the thought of having the ability to control so many lives had left her with nightmares. Now it is simply another thing to accept, another thing to make sure didn’t grow out of control.

~~~

Eventually they returned to Os Alta, after a couple of weeks or so. She was given a horse to ride while the other Corporalki stayed in their red carriage, and she was fine with it. Not even Fedyor had seemed to be willing to amuse her after the argument over the Fold crossings.

Thankfully, at this point she had gotten better at riding. The trip back to the capital wasn’t so wearying, though her back was definitely sore and thankful for a rest by the time she fell into the bed that still seemed familiar to her in the Little Palace. There was a long road ahead of her, even now that she had gotten here.

And it was. She wasn’t required to do any training, though she did take part in Botkin’s classes finally. He helped her hone her fighting abilities into something truly dangerous, and for once he seemed to actually be impressed with her strength.

She didn’t dare go to Baghra. The woman would probably see straight through her, even now after all these years.

Instead, she was given a red kefta with the black embroidery on the sleeves to mark her rank as a Heartrender. She didn’t allow anyone to touch the furs that she had hunted for, a threatening gaze able to scare off most maids that tried to. And for those that were more bold, Sol forced their hearts to pump wildly fast, creating a false sense of anxiety, of fear.

No one touched her things. And the Darkling seemed to be rather pleased with her little shows of power.

But still, he stayed wary. He only gave her small things to do, small jobs that had her traveling with other Grisha. She had to play nice, though internally Alina was more than happy to simply spend time with them. Never had she actually been able to be just a Grisha, one of them in the normal ranks. She might be more powerful than any of them, but she was still just a Heartrender among other Heartrenders.

Yet still, eventually, she became known as  _ Dayshuin Krov. _ Bloodletter. Alina cringed away from the name, but as Sol she gave a dark grin when it came around in talk.

The name brought the Darkling’s attention back to her. Cautiously, he began to invite her along with him. She replaced Ivan at his side, and when offered an amplifier she simply laughed and waved it off.

“I have no need of such a thing,” she said with a smirk that curled her lips. “Amplifiers are there for those who are too weak without one.”

“And you’re so sure that you’re strong enough already?” The Darkling had looked at her then, an interested glimmer in his eye.

She leaned forward, inspected his face and all the beautiful planes of it. She remembered the craving for power that had taken over her so long ago, the hunger that had her chase after the stag, then the sea whip, then the firebird before she plunged a blade into Mal’s chest.

“I’m more powerful than you could ever imagine,” she said coolly. “I have no need for more.”

The glimmer in his eye faded into something more powerful, more interested. “Show me, then.”

She shook her head. “No. That would only end with a lot of dead bodies.”

“So sure of yourself, always.”

“There’s no reason not to be.” She stared at him and shrugged. “When there’s no one to threaten you, it’s… well. I doubt that anything will stop me from feeling rather secure in myself.”

He simply nodded.

~~~

She became the Darkling’s Heartrender.

She took the time to learn the ways of court again, shaping Sol from a woman who was once wild into someone gracious and courteous around nobility. In fights she was still ruthless, still terrifying, and people said that to see the difference in her was to see day and night split down the middle.

But she ached, quietly still, though she knew that the Darkling felt it the few moments when he was not wearing his gloves and their fingers brushed as they passed documents back and forth. She had taken to helping him with the seemingly infinite stack of paperwork he always had to do, things that her and Nikolai had once shared instead of dumping it all on him. More and more, she was tempted to get rid of this King and Queen herself. They truly were useless on the throne, compared to Nikolai and the many things he did to improve the lives of his people.

But maybe that was Alina sinking too far into the act of being Sol. Either way, she was not there to help when the two rulers were murdered, and she was not there when Nikolai appeared at the Little Palace to confront the Darkling.

When she did return though, it was to find that the newly crowned King Nikolai was restless on the throne. He didn’t have anyone to balance him, to make sure that he was truly secure. He didn’t trust, he kept within his circle with Tamar and Tolya, keeping his Grisha guards and advisors close.

Sometimes, a small part of her wanted to be Alina again. The Saint that sat on the throne beside the King, the one that tamed the darkness at the heart of Ravka. But Sol was proud, too stubborn to dare bow to the remembered affections of a man that did not know her anymore.

Sol wore red, because it was the only thing she was for now. Someday she would be Alina again, but for now she was a soldier without friends, that kept the company of the Darkling maybe too often, for too long, to be proper.

But there was no affection between them. Their time spent alone was spent discussing borders, discussing the new King, the ways that they could make crossing the Fold safer like she had suggested years earlier. And at some point, he finally brought up the stag. Morozova’s amplifiers. And Sol tilted her head to the side, hearing the description of the herd.

“I’ve seen them before,” she said. “And you say the stag is an amplifier?”

“One of the most powerful out there,” he said quietly, intensely. “You’ve seen it? Where?”

Sol sat up straight in her chair, eyes blazing with an intensity that threatened to burn. “You will not touch it.”

“Why not? Someday, there will come along someone who I intend to give it to. And then I will take control of the Fold, I will stop Shu Han and Fjerda from continuing to harm Grisha.”

“You have not seen the creature, it is…” A memory from long ago came to her, seeing the beautiful stag standing in a frozen place. “It is the most pure thing you will ever see. You will never see something like it ever again if you kill it, and I will never let you.”

“Watch yourself,” he growled. “I am still your superior.”

“And I am still stronger than you.”

“You’re so sure of your position, Sol, and yet you refuse to show your true strength.” He stood, hovering over her as his clear grey eyes bored into hers. “I find myself doubtful of what you say.”

She snorted at his tone, forcing herself up out of her seat. He stepped back to avoid contact with her, and briskly she turned and marched out the door without another word.

~~~

She knew that it was dangerous to soften around him, but sometimes she couldn’t help it. Her weaknesses had been washed away with time, anyway. If there was anything that she had learned throughout everything, it was that humans fear endings more than anything - the fear of the unknown is a fear of what is known being ended, to be unable to go back to the comfort that is familiar.

An end to life, an end to good things, and end to familiar things. That is what fear was based on.

So she allowed her eyes to follow him, allowed old memories to brush against the edges of her mind as she remembered what it felt like to be so close to him. When he wanted her, if only for her power, when he was all too willing to break underneath her if only to be the one that her attentions were directed at. She allowed herself to ache, to be seen in small glimpses as he met her eyes and let him silently wonder.

Sometimes the ache in her chest swelled when they passed papers back and forth, and she could see him pause with each little brush of their fingers. She knew he was aware that she was jaded, that she ached with something familiar to him, but something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She would see the confusion flitting through him as he watched her.

Maybe, on a normal day such as she had with him around the Little Palace, being drowned in paperwork and duties and meetings to attend, he noticed that she had not aged. Not in the years, now, that she had spent as his Heartrender.

Sometime after she thought that he had realized, he disappeared for a time. Out to the borders, he said. Out to find more Grisha. She had the thought that he might have gone east, to find remnants of a family, a tribe of sorts that had been nothing but a lie off her tongue. She laughed to herself under the covers of her bed, into her pillow so no one would hear. He would find nothing.

But when he returned, he managed to catch her off guard in her room, where she was creating movement in the basin of water where she washed her face.

“I thought you were a Heartrender.”

She let the small waves fade into nothing more than ripples in the water. “I am many things. I’ve had time to learn many things.” She didn’t look up. She wasn’t able to.

The Darkling stepped closer, staring at the slowly calming water. “There hasn’t been a Grisha able to show multiple abilities in a thousand years, if I have my history is correct.” Still hiding behind the lies he had built up in his hundreds of years.

But she wanted him, so badly. She let herself be weak. “Not since the time of Morozova.”

He stilled, and she couldn’t pretend to be unsmiling. “What do you know, Sol?”

“So much more than you think, Aleksander,” she said. It felt almost odd to use his real name again, after so long of calling him by his title,  _ moi soverenyi, _ or simply ‘Darkling’ when Sol wanted to be annoying.

“How did you get that name?” She knew the look of shock that was currently twitching over his face. She knew that his eyes had gone wide for just a moment, before turning narrow and dangerous.

And finally, Alina let Sol fall away from her. She turned her eyes up to him, her smile still sticking to her lips like sickly sweet honey.

And she allowed her skin to glow. She allowed the natural warmth that she held at bay every moment of her waking hours to show, to bathe the Darkling in that same warm light.

After two hundred years, she finally told him her story again. She hoped that it will be the last time. She bent the light into figures, into familiar scenes. The story was shorter now, didn’t take her nearly as long as it once did now that she had lost all the small details. She didn’t fear to tell him anything now, knowing that Morozova’s amplifiers will never be found now that Mal is gone.

Though quietly, a part of her mourned for her sweetheart still. But she also mourned for the part of her that had been connected to the Darkling through the collar around her neck. The thing that tied her to him through the amplifier, through the nichevo’ya bite that had made her shoulder ache in the cold for years after being inflicted.

And after her story, after everything she had to say, he seemed… almost frightened. Scared of a girl that didn’t fear death, scared of the power she could so easily hold over him. Terrified of the one that had a hundred lives behind her, power unimaginable at her fingertips, who knew him so well.

But all she did was step over to where he had sat down on her bed, press a kiss to his hair before sweeping out of her room. She was ready to be patient.

~~~

Still, she was Sol to everyone. The identity that she had carved out for herself hadn’t died when she told the Darkling her story. But now she allowed herself to be more Alina, at least around him.

And slowly, she hoped, he would allow himself to be more Aleksander around her. A man that could be softer, a boy that had once been a child instead of a cold-hearted monster that he always was. They didn’t change much in their duties, still having to go over stacks of paperwork, though they were less now that Nikolai had taken the throne.

But as she waited, she turned her attention to the King. To Nikolai, to the man that had once been her husband. Part of her asked if she could be again, if he would trust her again in such a way.

She allowed the Darkling to stew in his thoughts as she asked for a private audience with Nikolai.

And it was granted, though it was not totally private. She wouldn’t expect anything else.

But she was glad that it was the Heartrender twins that accompanied him. They were always as trustworthy as she could get.

And as she dropped into the seat next to him, ignoring protocall in a show that Sol hadn’t given in years, she remembered just how much she loved him.

“Hello, Nikolai,” she said with a small smile.

He raised an eyebrow. “No time for titles now that we’re alone, huh?”

“I hope… well, I’m hoping that you’ll forgive me for the lack of titles and rules right now. I’m rather tired of all of it, having to dance around everyone in court. I get enough of it in the Grisha ranks, honestly.” She placed her hands on the table, clasped together in a show of peace. There would be no use of her powers here, in this room.

Thankfully he was aware of the action, of its significance. “Well then, that sounds fair enough. Sol, correct? I hear that you’ve been making quite the scene ever since you joined the Grisha, showing up out of the blue at Kribirsk.”

She laughed, perhaps a noise too innocent for Sol. “I came from the east. A group of nomads that stay deep in the mountains, they were my family until they passed away and sent me to find the most powerful Grisha I could.”

“And you’ve been serving Ravka ever since? That seems like quite the story for someone so loyal to the country.”

“Will you question me if I’m too loyal?” A smile danced over her features. “You are much better than our last king, you know.”

He hummed. “Yes, I’ve heard rumors about you being rather critical of my father.”

“He didn’t know what he was doing with this country. It was handed to him on a silver platter, he never had to work for it.”

Nikolai shrugged. “Perhaps. But that’s about what happened with me as well, you know.”

“No.” Sol shook her head. “You people put so much weight in the blood that runs through your veins, even more than I do, and I specialize in blood.”

Her comment earned her a light chuckle. “Well, you’re not wrong…”

“You nearly had a rebellion on your hands, in the beginning.” Without the wonder of the Sun Summoner, every time that Nikolai had come to the throne the entire country seemed to zero in on the rumors around his heritage. “You had to work to keep control. You are strong, much stronger than the man that claimed to be your father.”

Nikolai raised an eyebrow. “You say that as if you know something about it.”

“It doesn’t matter now. You are king.”

“Sol…” He took a breath. “What did you call this meeting for? Why did you want to speak to me alone?”

Sol shifted in her seat. Breaking eye contact, unfolding her hands and offering them up to the ceiling. A breath, two, just to build suspense. And sunlight flooded from her, not just from her hands but from her skin, every inch of it. She glowed, even in the well-lit room.

A deafening silence followed, and she spoke into it.

“I can destroy the Fold.”

“Are you sure?” Nikolai’s voice was strong, fascinated as he leaned forward.

She nodded. “Absolutely.” She’d done it before, after all. It should be even easier this time, in fact. There was nothing for her to worry about in that aspect.

“Why keep this from me? Why keep this hidden away, unless this is a recent thing?”

Sol allowed the glow to fade. “Because I had things to do.”

“Like what?”

She laughed once again. “You needn’t worry about that, Nikolai. It is of no consequence to you, nothing negative will come your way. I promise you. If everything works out, it should even be beneficial.”

“And if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then everything stays the same.”

He raised an eyebrow and sat back in his chair with a relaxed pose. “Oh really.”

Watching him with a smile still, she nodded. “Get me to the Fold, Nikolai. Put me on the front lines of your wars, and watch as I destroy your enemies.”

“In my name? Why should you?”

“I would do anything for you,” she murmured truthfully. “Call it love.”

He barked a laugh. “You’re an odd woman, Sol.”

“To you. To others.” She gave a smile. “But I have my reasons.”

The King stared at her for several moments, inspecting her. He was not a soft man, not for anyone now, but she could still see the familiar glint of his eye as he debated upon her intentions, the power she held.

But eventually he nodded. “Alright. I’ll send you to the Fold. I’m keeping an eye on you, though. You’re too mysterious for my taste.”

“Of course,  _ Sobachka. _ I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“It’s almost disheartening that people still think of me as a puppy,” he said with a chuckle.

She hummed. “I suppose you are more of a hound now.” A small reference to his former title as Sturmhond, one that he seemed to pick up on with a sharp look in his eye. Even with an odd sort of competition between them, she was surprised with how easily conversation flowed - but that was always the charm of Nikolai. He was the person that any person needed, changing and flowing with the tides, wherever they might take him.

“I’ve heard that you seem to know things you shouldn’t, Sol.”

“I’m an avid listener,” she said with a hint of a shrug.

“Then what do you know about me?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” She met his eyes still, amused. “Nikolai, people are frightened of me. And I’m alright with that, it is only the affections of a few that I really want.”

“Why me, then?” 

Sol sighed. And Alina answered, after a moment. “Because I miss it.”

“Miss… me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or you miss the affection you had?”

“Perhaps both.” She wanted to be weak. She wanted to tell him of everything like she once had. She wanted to be Sol Koroleva once more, but her heart was still too tender when she remembered a little girl with nearly white hair.

And Nikolai looked at her, curious. “You came from the east?”

“Perhaps,” she whispered.

“Be honest with me, please, Sol.”

But she was not Sol in that moment. The act that is Sol was stripped away, laid bare in front of the King. And Alina was hurting, because these were things that she hadn’t touched on in years, because these were things that she had already spent lifetimes running from. She had a son, Misha, and no one else, because sometimes she could forget what Nikolai’s skin felt like against her own and she could forget the screams of her child that still haunted her on her worst nights. Because the one fear that followed her was the regret of not knowing what came after, if she had hurt her daughter more than could be helped.

“I cannot,” she whispered, and even to herself she sounded like a different person. Too meek, too soft to be Sol who grinned in the face of challenge, of possible pain. “It hurts too much.”

Nikolai stared at her. He seemed to be holding his breath, inspecting her closely, and for a moment she was reminded just how alike him and Aleksander were. Him and the Darkling.

“Can I trust you, Sol?”

“Yes,” she murmured, voice cracking with emotion. “Yes, I will- I will do anything.”

“Even if I asked you to kill your leader for me?”

She couldn’t help it - a sharp laugh escaped her. Of course the first thing he said was the one thing she would in fact not do for him.

“Nikolai,” she said. “There are three people in this world that I would do anything in my power to protect.”

“Oh?”

“One is already dead, on the Fold. I was forced to let him go.”

“I apologize for your loss.”

“You are another.”

“I’m flattered. And let me guess, the Darkling is the third?” He crossed his legs, an ankle resting on his knee. “That means that you would in fact not do just  _ anything _ for me, Sol.”

“We all have to have a weakness somewhere.” She gave him a strained smile. The name on his lips reminded her to slide her mask back into place, to bury her grief for now.

But Nikolai simply hummed, and nodded, and they lapsed into silence for a minute or two. He spent the time inspecting her, she spent the time thinking. Mostly of the Darkling, mostly of the man sitting in front of her, thinking of the way she had wanted both of them so badly. When she thought that she had won so easily, reached the end of her lives so quickly when she had found the Darkling’s love.

“Who was the first one?” 

“Hmm?”

“The one that you lost. Who were they?”

“A childhood sweetheart,” she whispered.

He nodded, reaching over to pat her arm lightly. “Then I really am sorry, Sol. But why would you be so adamant about protecting the Darkling?”

“Because it is my duty. I alone am to save him.” Let him chalk it up to superstition, to some sort of religion that someone carried in the east. “If I were to lose him, I would lose my purpose. I would lose myself, Nikolai.”

“That sounds rather dire. Who sent you to save him? From what, exactly, are you saving him from?”

“Himself,” she said with a small smile. “The universe itself sent me to save him. And I will do so, no matter how long it might take for me to do so.”

The King sighed, shaking his head. “Alright. Fine, I won’t try to have you turn against your charge. But, I think that the Grisha might need a new leader…”

“You want me to replace the Darkling, the traditional leader?”

“Honestly, I have found that many traditional things are no more than a nuisance. Having the same line of men in charge of some of our most valuable forces for generation upon generation just because it is the only thing people have done for a thousand years is no reason to continue doing so. And… honestly I need someone with more of an open mind. Someone who won’t scare my council into letting him do what he thinks he needs to with his own people.”

Sol chuckled. “Alright. I can do that. I’ve been handling enough things on my own anyway.”

Nikolai nodded, gave her a smile, and stood. “Then I’ll leave you to prepare for your journey to the Fold.”

“Alright.” She nodded back to him, watching as he strode out of the room. “Moi tsar,” she murmured to his retreating back. She didn’t like the title on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry for leaving with yall with a copy chapter over that week break T~T I'll get out the next chapter once I get my uhhh, minimal amount of editing done. And then tomorrow I'll be getting the last chapter out! So keep an eye out for that 030


	12. From Here, Forever Onwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sol is the most powerful Grisha to ever live, but quietly Alina craves for the affection that she had been missing out on for dozens of lives now. She misses her lovers, and she doesn't entirely know what to do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so now since I fixed the last chapter and all, we now only have one official chapter left! I'll get around to posting that and our epilogue tomorrow :3 I'm so excited guys, I just got the finishing chapters of two long fics written in the course of like three days so I'm feeling super accomplished.
> 
> _Also hi there's also smut in this chapter, it's at the very end again... we get some Spicy Alina™ again and hehehehe I honestly can't even apologize for anything, I live for dom!Alina_

Sol closed the Fold, and she came back to Os Alta as a hero. Most everyone thought that her Sun Summoning was some sort of freak development of her Corporalki powers, and she had to laugh at it sometimes. But she didn’t try to correct them at all, instead just shrugging when anyone asked where it had come from.

The Darkling, of course, was furious about the loss of his weapon. When she returned, he dragged her into a quiet corner away from the rest of the Grisha.

“Why would you close it?” His voice was a hiss. “It could have been our greatest weapon, Sol, you just got rid of our safest bet to making sure that Shu Han and Fjerda won’t take over this country.”

“No, it’s not our weapon.” She took hold of his kefta, and despite her smaller size it was as if she towered over him. “And it’s not the greatest. I am.  _ Sol _ is. If Shu Han tries to invade, I will stop their army’s heart. I will do the same and more for Fjerda, if I get there fast enough.”

“What do you mean, if you get there fast enough?” His eyebrows grew together.

And Sol gave him a grin. “I had to have a teacher somewhere, Aleksander. He has a thing against Fjerdans.”

“There’s a Heartrender powerful enough out there…?”

“Along the very top of our northern border there is a place where the Fjerdans have never been able to break through, not for fifty years or more. He’s simply a Corporalki, he was taught as both a Heartrender and a Healer.”

The Darkling narrowed his eyes at her. “I’d like to meet this man.”

“No. No, you will not. And I will not lead you to him. He’s dangerous, more dangerous than you will ever imagine. He’d stop your heart a kilometer away if he knew who you were, and mine right after.”

“How would he be able to do that?”

“How do I sense people in the darkness that you create?” She stared at him steadily, brown eyes steadily meeting grey-silver. It was a common trick of theirs, for the Darkling to douse a room in blackness when a crowd started to get too rowdy. Sometimes when the darkness lifted there would be bodies left there by herself. “He taught me to sense heartbeats from a distance, to feel a person’s pulse even in the smallest capillaries in their fingertips. He’s spent every day since he was twenty five mastering it, and he’s had a lot of time and practice on his hands.”

“Then why?” She still had her hand clenched into his kefta, but now he moved to place his hand over hers. “Why would he do so?”

“He’s volatile. If he deems someone a threat, he’ll kill them. He goes through states of a sort of mania, where his remembered grief comes back and he’ll kill anyone who comes near, no matter if they’re Ravkan or Fjerdan or anything else. He killed me a few times, I only went back to him each time because I knew that he was strong enough to teach me.”

“So he taught you how to be a Heartrender,” the Darkling stated flatly.

“No, he taught me how to be a Healer. And then he touched up on my Heartrender abilities, and gave me a few more to work with.”

“How?”

Sol sighed, and let her hand drop from his kefta. “Don’t ask me. But…”

“But?”

“He’s powerful. More than me still, probably. At least with his Heartrender abilities. He’ll be sixty-two here soon, and he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day over the day of the attack that destroyed his town.”

The look on his face was… sour. Like he couldn’t decide what to do with this new information. Sol waited for him to respond for several moments before she sighed and patted his chest with one hand.

“We’re not the only ones out there, Aleksander. You’ve just missed them.”

Then she made to step away from him, before he held onto her hand and both pulled her towards him and moved towards her at the same time. Until their chests were pressed together, no space left between them. The pose they ended up in was that of dancing, almost - someone passing their little nook could almost think that they saw a frozen moment of the two of them on the ballroom floor.

“Alina,” he whispered, and the sound of her name on his lips made her shiver. Not so many years and already, returning to the familiarity of her own name made her almost as weak as it did him.

“Yes?” She whispered back, taking in his beautiful face. It’d been so long since he had been so close.

His breath was a brush against her lips. One, two, and she could feel the almost violent thrum of his heart. And then his muscles tensed, some of them unconscious, before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

And she sighed into it. She’d missed him, the feeling of his lips against hers, the well of power that opened up between them and love and lust and annoyance and a thousand other emotions zipped through their connection. It was everything that she had needed for so long, for all the many, many years that she had spent without him after Nikolai.

She would never love like she had back then - not again, not even with how much she wanted to. There was just too much for her to remember, to want the familiar things that she lost back again and again. Really, there was nobody but the Darkling for her now. Only he knew the kind of effect that this kind of isolation had on her, what it continued to do to her every day. He’d always have his mother, but Alina had no one to remember the things that remained lost to memory for her.

He’d felt the ache in her before. He’d felt it when their fingers brushed, the ever-present loneliness that made her chest contract at the oddest moments. He’d seen it, when he caught her staring, unabashed. She knew he had.

But now, the ache became a pain sharp in her lungs, and the ripples of loneliness became a wave that threatened to drown her.

The Darkling held her closer, closer, until no part of the two of them was separate. Until they had to pull away to breathe, and even then their lips still brushed as Alina took a shaky breath, in and out.

He kissed her open mouth and then his lips caught the tears that slipped slowly down her cheeks. If her emotions shook him, he gave no indication now as his fingers slipped into her hair and tugged gently, then harder as his lips traced down her throat. For a moment she so desperately wanted to pretend that she could remember what this felt like, to be turned and trapped between his body and the wall. But the best memory she could conjure up was Nikolai doing this, Aleksander watching from where he had been left with ties around his wrists.

The memory of the Darkling pressing her up against the door of the Queen’s sitting room at the winter fete was one that she only remembered the vague impression of. She couldn’t remember what her emotions had been like then, when she was so young and unexperienced. Looking back on it, it was as if the memory had been reduced to nothing more than seeing wooden figures moved into place.

“I loved you once,” she murmured. She felt his hands tighten down on her. “I still do, but not this you.”

His mouth moved up to hers, covering once more, but she was tired. Her lips refused to meet his, to match his neediness, and though he pressed even closer she couldn’t do any more than lay her hand on his shoulder. And he continued kissing her, nipping at her lips until they were swelling and tender, though eventually he realized that she was done with this. So he continued, softer, softer, until it was nothing but a brush against her cheek.

“Alina,” he murmured.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Yes, Aleksander.” It didn’t come out with the inflection that she wanted, but she couldn’t do anything but accept it.

“Do not taunt me with such words if you don’t mean them.”

A twitch of annoyance had her fingers flexing for just a moment. “I have no reason to lie to you. But I… I have hurt, in ways that I don’t think even you have experienced. And I am tired, and I am…”

“You are not so weak,” he murmured, tongue peeking out to lick his lips. “To want. Maybe I should learn that.”

And then he turned on his heel and left. Alina could stop him, if she wanted to - freeze his muscles, force his hands above his head and leave him with some sort of mark of her love. It wouldn’t be the first time she had done something like it, but once more she was left with an annoying, crippling sense of apathy. Was this something that the Darkling experienced, even after so long with his mother? How empty did he feel, after all these years?

She sighed and watched him go. There was no need to rush. No need to get her hands on him right now and fill the hole that always seemed to be by her side. They both had an eternity to live for.

~~~

Three years, and Nikolai was desperate in his search for a Queen. But he was picky, he couldn’t decide who could be trusted and who would be a good fit and who he  _ wanted _ but Sol was there, waiting. Watching patiently because quietly, Alina was still there in the background just waiting to be able to get to her place beside him once again. But of course the chance would never come, she knew. It was only a dream, a dream of a girl that had probably faded away decades ago.

But she remained his ever-faithful servant. The Darkling was never pleased with her decisions when she was made the leader of the Grisha, but he followed her with little issue. No matter how grudging it was, he seemed to trust her judgement. And if she ever did do something wrong, he was there to catch the slip-up before it got too far.

The rest of the Grisha, however, seemed to lose their faith in her. They called her power hungry, they called her a fool for trying to take over the Darkling’s place. Maybe it was rumors spread by the Darkling himself, or maybe he simply didn’t care enough to go against them.

Either way, her control on the Grisha slowly started to slip. They feared her, but something about seeing a Heartrender leading the Grisha instead of the Darkling made them restless. Angry.

Sol had to laugh.

At meals she sat at the table that was once solely the Darkling’s. He sat with her sometimes, while others he took his meals in his rooms. She had allowed him to keep those, at least. She watched over the other Grisha as they watched her warily out of the corner of their eyes, and she picked out those who had once been so familiar to her.

Zoya. Sergei. Fedyor. Nadia, who sometimes disappeared from meals. Marie. Genya was now free from the servitude of the royals, or as free as she could be. She still sat on her own, sometimes seeking out David when he was there for meals. Adrik. Stigg. Merik. They weren’t her friends now, but sometimes she liked to imagine that they could be again, someday. 

It was rather lonely at the top, without someone to share her status with.

~~~

“Why me?” Nikolai asked her one night, when they were alone and going over reports from the borders together. “You said once that you loved me. Why?”

“For reasons that you will never understand, moi tsar,” she answered plainly, though her eyes never left the papers. His question made her stomach churn.

“Tell me.”

“I will not, unless your order me to.” It was then that she looked up, and her eyes spoke of centuries. It wasn’t something that he would recognize in her unless he bothered to learn. She didn’t know why she allowed him such an easy way in, but maybe, perhaps, she did. “I don’t want to tell stories to men who will not believe me.”

“Who said that I wouldn’t believe you?”

She smiled, and it was knowing. Of course he wouldn’t believe her. He’d only believed her once, when she wasn’t so jaded and cool. When she could say that she knew him, inside and out, and maybe she still could say so. But the years had likely warped her memory, and she didn’t want to hurt any longer than she had to in this discussion.

He met her smile and hummed. “How ridiculous is the story, anyway?”

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“In a way.”

“Then I have reincarnated, in a way. I’ve lived the same life, over and over again. I’ve been your Queen, I’ve been the girl that keeps you warm between the sheets on the Volkvolny. The Saint that saved the life of a Grisha out near the border. I’ve been nothing but a rogue Grisha traveling the world. I’ve been the Ravkan stranger in Shu Han, in Fjerda. I’ve been Sankta Alina, the girl who closed the Fold.”

He took a breath. “Well then. A Saint, huh? Seems a bit ambitious.”

“Most Saints have been Grisha, if I’m correct.” Sol shrugged. “Just normal people with more ability than they think. Sankt Ilya was a Grisha, with access to and knowledge of merzost. I didn’t choose to be named a Saint, but people latched onto the title.”

“And you’ve known me as Sturmhond?”

“Yes. It was Ilana who taught me to be a Tidemaker, in fact.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Ah, Ilana… I miss her.”

Without Alina, they’d lost the fierce woman. So Sol shrugged once again. “She was a good teacher. I don’t know where you lost her, but in the lives that I joined your crew I think that my presence managed to keep her there.”

“She died in an attack that we pulled on a Fjerdan ship. They had druskelle on board, and we weren’t prepared to fight people used to defeating Grisha.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Nikolai hummed. “So… you were my Queen, hm?”

“Only once.”

“Why only once? Really couldn’t stand me?” He laughed and gave her a small smirk.

Sol laughed. “Do you believe me, Nikolai?”

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t. It does explain a lot of your oddities.”

“You’re not wrong,” she murmured. “Only once, because… because of parem.” Because she’d lost her child. Because she still couldn’t shake the pain of such a thing after a century and a half.

“Ah… someone slipped you parem?”

She nodded, closing her eyes before tears could come. “I think it reacted differently with me than other Grisha… I couldn’t control it, I nearly melted the Grand Palace down around me. I nearly… nearly killed our-” Her throat closed up, and she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Everything hurt so badly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and the pain of every step that was behind her peeked through.

The King’s hand rested atop her own, and she bowed her head over it. If only to hide the torturous pain in her throat. These were things that she hadn’t told anyone, not in all the many years that had come after her last death on the Volkvolny. She still didn’t know if the heat that she had summoned back then had killed her daughter, or if the girl had escaped after she had taken her own life.

“Sol…”

She shook her head. Tried to force down the tears threatening to fall, tried to force down the lump in her throat that kept her from responding. “Yes, moi tsar?”

“Just Nikolai, please.” His fingers brushed over her hand and her chest physically ached with pain. “But Sol, what do you want from me, truly? As a king, as a friend that I might have once been.”

“Don’t ask me that,” she croaked. “Don’t make me answer.”

“I need an answer, though. I need to know what you want, or I will never know what to do with you.”

A shudder ran through her and she bent low enough that her cheek pressed to his hand. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“Tell me.”

“I want you.” And it was like a weight had been finally lifted away from her chest. “I want you, I want my daughter back, I want to see her grow. But I can’t.”

“You can do whatever I say you can.” Nikolai turned his hand around, tilting her chin up so that she would straighten up. “Sol, why say that you can’t?”

She leaned into his hand still, and her eyes stung with tears. When was the last time that she cried, really? How many lifetimes had passed? Not simply tears streaking down her face, but  _ crying, _ with a wail stuck in her throat as she shook.

“It hurts too much,” she said quietly. “I’m scared. I don’t know what I would do if it was Ana that I gave birth to again. I don’t know what I would do if it was a different child. I don’t know what I would do, and there’s so much you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand.”

“How can I?”

“You only have to tell me, Sol.”

“Alina.” She paused, took a breath, ruthlessly forcing down the lump in her throat. “My name is Alina. Sol is only a facade to hide behind when I have to be cruel.”

“Then  _ Dayshuin Krov _ is only an act? I’m impressed.”

“It’s not one that I particularly enjoy, but it’s been necessary. I had to get close to the Darkling, and being ruthless was the best way to do so.”

“I’ve heard stories, they say you very rarely kill and yet people are terrified of you.” Nikolai tilted his head, staring at her. “Manipulating the body in ways it never should be… they call you Bloodletter and yet you spill the least.”

“When you’ve been trained by mad and insane Corporalki, it tends to happen that way. They gave me ideas.”

“And you just had to test them out?”

“All for the act.” Alina sighed. “Out of everything in my first life, there’s only a few things that I remember clearly now.”

Nikolai sat back, fingers entwined as he watched her. “And those are?”

“The first time I killed someone directly. I remember standing on a platform, being raised up into the air by one of your flying contraptions. I used the Cut to kill a man, and I almost immediately puked over the opposite edge.”

The King chuckled quietly. “Sounds familiar enough, lots of people have similar experiences with their first kills. What are your other memories?”

“It’s not a specific memory, but I remember you. Your hands, your eyes, after we had defeated the Darkling. You were scarred, in more ways than I could say, but you were stronger than I ever was, I think.” She took a breath, more things coming back to her the more she talked. “He had made you into a nichevo’ya, something like a volcra. Something made through the power of merzost. You nearly ate me, when you were a monster like that.”

“And you remember that so well? I have to admit, that is somewhat strange, but I’m flattered.” He gave a half smile, a lopsided smirk. “What else?”

“The Darkling giving me his true name,” she whispered.

Nikolai stared at her, tilting his head. “You know, I have always wondered whether the man has an actual name or not. What is it?”

“It’s not mine to give - not right now.”

“Not right now?”

Alina smiled at him. “There was a time when we welcomed the man into our bed. To break him, to take control and for me to show him that he was mine to use and lead at my own whim.”

He looked rather surprised, almost… disgusted. The expression had her giving a small chuckle. “Only yours, huh? Guess I wasn’t really involved?”

“Oh, you were  _ very _ involved.” She couldn’t help the little tease, even as the King’s expression twisted up even more. “It wasn’t so bad. I think both of you were hesitant at first, with the two of you and your stupid competition with each other. Both of you wanted to call me solely yours, as if either of you could ever control me.” Alina laughed quietly once more, shaking her head and turning her head to the large window.

“And, if you would sate my curiosity, did me and the Darkling ever turn against you, actually try to take control back for ourselves?”

Alina hummed as she thought. Images flashed in her mind, and her body heated at the memories. For now she could get away with them without the tears, if she was careful to avoid certain thoughts.

“Only once or twice. You two definitely enjoyed yourselves… you in particular, Nikolai, once you got it through your head that you could subject both of us to your markings.” She skewered him with a look, before rolling her eyes.

He smirked, chuckled quietly. “And it sounds as if you miss such things, Sol- Alina,” he corrected himself.

“Well, I’ve only kept one other lover long enough for him to learn how to properly pleasure me, so forgive me for missing that particular thing.” She looked over at him, amused, and found him staring back at her with a look that she could recognize even after all of these years. But she was rather surprised to find such a lusty look turned to her, when the Nikolai that she had known before was so slow to trust. When the last time she had told him about her lives, he had turned away from her and refused to believe.

What had been different, then?

Either way, her hand tightened around his almost on instinct, wanting to pull him closer to her. Like she used to, lifetimes ago. She saw the way he swallowed, the way he wanted this as well.

“Tell me that you want this,” she said.

“Alina,” he murmured. It was answer enough.

“Why?” Her words were no more than a breath now. “What’s different now? How can you trust me now, but not then, last time? Why-”

Nikolai leaned closer, until his breath skated across her lips. “I don’t know. I don’t know why the things in your past were different, but I trust you now, Alina.”

“Why do you want me now?” She was desperate to lean closer, her breath subtly turning heavier.

His other hand came up, fingertips brushing against her cheek. “Because you’re beautiful. And you’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met, in every way that I can imagine. And there’s a look in your eyes that makes my heart break for some Saints-forsaken reason, and I want to make the hurt go away if only for a moment.”

Alina closed her eyes, going carefully still even as she felt him grow closer. A deep breath in, then out, and a moment to hold it. “Damn you,” she whispered.

“And why is that?”

Her hand came up, sliding through his hair and her throat refused to make sound for a moment. “You’ve always known exactly what to say,” she croaked.

And then his lips brushed against hers, but it was too gentle. The years hadn’t made her gentle, they had made her ruthless and unforgiving and  _ hard, _ and so she was the one to crush herself closer. She was the one to drag him closer, until he was forced to his knees between her legs where she sat. She was lonely, and she had missed him so damn much. He wasn’t the man that had an eternity-old ego to dance around, who had access to all of her emotions and still got her intentions wrong.

Nikolai was beautiful, and she told him so around the kisses she pressed to his lips, nearly hard enough to split the delicate skin. All she got was a soft groan as his hands found her waist, dragged her closer until she was perched on the edge of her seat.

They were in his study - it wasn’t a safe place to be doing such raucous things as this, but there would be no stopping Alina now. Not as her fingers moved to undo familiar buttons, shoving his jacket from his shoulders, then his shirt. Not as she shoved forward with his hands fumbling with the buttons of her kefta, nearly knocking him to the ground so that she could straddle his hips. She felt the outline of an erection below her already, the feeling forcing the breath out of her chest.

“Have you always been this rough, lovely?” There was a breath of a laugh in his voice. Where was suspicious, wary Nikolai now? What happened to the man who didn’t trust her just a few months ago, before she destroyed the Fold?

Her heart clenched as she registered the nickname of his. “No, I haven’t,” she said, pressing her hand to his chest. Fingers spreading outwards like she was going to grab his heart, and she wanted to consume him. “But I don’t know if I know how not to be. Not right now.”

“Well then, maybe I’ll just have to teach you.”

“You’re hardly the best teacher for this,” she huffed. The beat of his heart was hard, fluttering against his ribcage. “Not when you were the one leaving me with hickies and bite marks all up and down, anywhere you could reach.”

“Well maybe this time can be different.”

“I could ruin you, Nikolai.”

“In all the best ways, I hope.”

She hummed, but it was almost a growl in her throat as she leaned down and pressed lips to his throat. And then she directed the blood flow in his body, felt his cock being engorged until it must have been somewhat painful, as his nails dug into her back, her arms. “I could make sure that you stay like this for as long as I need,” she murmured.

And he hissed, at the pressure at his groin or because of the thought of her actually going through with her idea. “Alina…”

“Don’t sound so desperate, Nikolai.” She smirked a little, drawing him up just a little by the hair to kiss him. “You’re not the one that’s gone fifty years without this.”

But then his leg was hooking around hers, and suddenly she was on her back with Nikolai’s face buried in the crook of her neck. “No, but sometimes it feels like it.”

Then his fingers pulled her kefta open, undoubtedly tearing off some of the fine buttons that he didn’t undo in his haste, and when he found the skin underneath bare he didn’t question and instead his hands scrambled for the top of the pants she wore. His teeth grazed her pulse and Alina very nearly went limp underneath him, tilting her head to allow him the room to continue.

Her control slipped, her skin began to glow, and Nikolai slowed for only a moment to press a kiss to the very center of her chest. And then he was retreating, pulling her pants away before pushing his own down and it looked as if he was dying for her. Like he needed, needed- but almost more like he wanted more than anything, like he wanted  _ her _ and Alina couldn’t take that look.

So she pulled him down to her, and Nikolai caught himself on one forearm, hovering over her as his other hand drifted down between her legs. And Alina knew just how sinful his fingers could be on their own, but she needed  _ more _ than that right now, she needed him more than anything.

Again she directed some of his blood flow down below, saw his cock give a twitch and nearly quiver as he groaned and dropped his forehead to hers. He groaned, fingers pressing into her, teeth snapping close to her lips at the feeling of it as he struggled to keep his control.

But if there was one thing that Alina excelled at, it was breaking a stubborn man’s control. So she reached up between them, stroked a hand over his length and watched as his hips bucked into her touch with a quiet gasp. She gave a small smile even as her eyes fluttered as his fingers plunged into her a bit harder, a quiet moan in her throat.

“Nikolai…”

“Shh, we can’t have anyone hearing us in here…”

Alina tightened her hand around him, thumbing over the head of his dick and he gave a shocked moan of his own before attempting to lightly glare at her. With how dark his eyes were with lust, lidded and hazy as his arm trembled from holding him up, it didn’t entirely work the way he wanted it to. “I can be as loud as I damn well please, my love.” And then her hand came up to rest on his hip, leading him down, down, until his tip was pressed against her entrance and he was forced to move his hand.

Then Nikolai shifted down to press a kiss to the corner of her lips, gentle for just a moment once again. “My love, hm?”

“I…” She stared at him, oddly worried, before he cracked a smile and gave a grin before pushing into her. It made her breath catch for a moment, the feeling of him filling her, before a moan spilled out of her. “O-oh, Nikolai-”

It was as if he couldn’t decide between kissing or biting, or simply panting against her skin as he dragged the movement of his hips out into something torturously slow. One of Alina’s legs came up, hooking around him to pull him closer, faster, but he stubbornly kept to his pace. At least until her nails dug into his shoulders and something almost like a sob shook through her, desperate.

But even then it was slow to pick up, a gradual increase to his pace that had her keening into the air, gasping for breath between moans before he covered her mouth with his own. And then it was almost like a fight, teeth nipping and threatening to tear at lips.

Desperate, desperate.

One of Nikolai’s hands came to rest at her thigh, clutching it close to him as he continued thrusting into her and Alina didn’t even care who heard - let them talk, let them judge her pleasure. She was the most powerful Grisha in the world, she could do anything with Nikolai beside her. With  _ Aleksander. _ So she let her voice hitch up into a whine, a shout. So close to falling apart, when she felt the tell-tale quiver in his thighs and her focus snapped back to Nikolai, only him.

And she denied him the orgasm that he was just on the edge of, watching as his lidded eyes snapped fully open in a wonderful sort of desperation. A frustrated groan left him, fingers digging into her thigh with a hard grip and nails threatening to break skin.

He dragged her closer, thrust harder, and oh it was  _ bliss _ all the way up and down her spine. Crawling through her veins like lightning.

“Alina,” he growled, he panted her name. “Alina, Alina-”

Her eyes fluttered, she met his eyes and her gaze blurred with tears. How long had it been since he said her name like that, like she was the only one in the world he had ever needed?

“Nikolai,” she murmured, her voice rough as she ached for her release.

With a deft hand he pressed her thigh all the way up to her chest and her next breath was a garbled, strangled moan at the sudden feeling. She’d missed this, the pleasure of being split apart and  _ ruined _ by someone she loved so dearly.

He shifted just slightly, and the angle had him slamming against that delicious part in her that had her seeing stars - or maybe her light had made the room white out. Either way, her end came rushing up to her and she let out a shout with the first wave of it before releasing the hold she had on Nikolai’s body.

And then he kept moving, just for a few moments.

Enough to make her feel as if she was the sun itself, burning, burning every part of her that touched Nikolai as she felt him shudder finally, hold himself up for just a few moments more before letting himself slump over her.

And she welcomed his weight pressing her down into the floor, a sigh on her lips as the light faded from her and she turned her head to press a kiss to his sweaty hair. The light wasn’t gone, of course, but now it was just a faint glow sticking to her skin that refused to die out when she didn’t focus on keeping it down.

“Alina…”

“Yes?” Her voice was a whisper now, almost fearful of his words.

“With your power, with the past you’ve apparently had with me, would you…”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.” Tears slipped from her eyes, unwarranted, and he tilted his head just so in order to kiss her properly. She would do anything to find her place beside him again. Almost anything.

And she wouldn’t waste this life. There wasn’t a chance that she was going to squander this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) anyway I will see you guys tomorrow... I'll be taking a break after the last chapters to work on some other Grishaverse fics of mine cause I have like seven other fics that I've been slowly working with on the side because I have exactly 0 self control.
> 
> And as always, I actually live on the energy that I get from reading feedback/screaming comments on my stuff so like... please. Fuel your writers with kind words.


	13. Finding The End, Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina once again has Nikolai, and now that she knows what to do, it's not hard to get Aleksander back by her side once again. This time she will not fail, she will find her happiness and she _will_ save him. She lives, she loves, and Alina finds her end at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi to the longest chapter in this thing yet, lmao. Exactly 11,002 words xD
> 
> One quick thing before yall go on reading (or, yknow, feel free to skip this, either way) bUT this story is officially the longest piece of writing that I have finished, done (minimal) editing on, and actually... yknow, posted. I don't post a lot of my writing because in the years since I have started getting serious about my writing, it usually had some sort of context behind it in the form of rp chats with my friends... and also because I'm a very nervous baby when it comes to sharing my writing.
> 
> So to have the overwhelming support and positive feedback from everyone who has commented, shared this work, and come to my tumblr to ask me questions and tell me how much you're enjoying it has been... wow. Like seriously. I probably would have never finished this project if it weren't for all of you guys leaving comments and kudos. It has given me a lot of confidence moving forward with my writing, so thank you all.
> 
> And one last thing - this piece is officially going to be part of a series, so if you're interested, keep an eye out for that (and maybe subscribe to the series? 030)

Once again, it didn’t start with love. Not really.

It started with a pause, an outstretched hand. Posturing and late nights and hands brushing through ink-black hair. It started with desperation, a need that couldn’t be ignored, skin pressed to skin pressed to skin, and Alina was incandescent with her happiness.

Ravka was hers. The heart and soul of her home, the King and Grisha consort. She was a Queen now, the most powerful being known to man. The Blood Queen, the Sun Queen. She had many titles, now.

It didn’t take so long this time, for a child to be born. But it was not Ana, and quietly Alina thanked whatever forces of the universe had sent her back even as she cursed them.

This child was a boy with dirty blonde hair, green eyes that stared quietly, curiously. He was too quiet for a baby, the Healers warned her nervously. He might not live for long. She gave them a serene smile one moment, before she scorched their keftas and sent them away with a thunderous order the next.

Feyden, he was named after a friend she hadn’t seen in too long. One whose eyes were supposed to be the green of forests.

Nikolai laughed, stated that the boy looked much like his father. Aleksander stared quietly as the child grasped at his gloved fingers, eyes gazing innocently up at him while mother and father talked quietly with him tucked safely against her chest.

This time Alina pressed a kiss to the Grisha’s shoulder, allowed him to take Feyden from her arms when she grew too tired for her arms to hold him. Watched as Nikolai stared with a small frown, clearly itching to put the baby to bed himself.

The boy lived.

Alina would not let him die. She stayed up for long nights, making certain that her son’s heart would continue to beat in his chest. She curled over his frail body some mornings, eyes nearly feral with fear as she counted the tiny flutters of his heart. And she continued to do so every night, until his body grew stronger.

She loved him. She loved him with all her heart, his green eyes and his messy locks of hair and the way he would smile so rarely but in that innocent way that only a baby could muster. The way she loved was powerful, as powerful as the light that she summoned, as powerful as the hand that could distort and maim bodies.

The love of a mother who knew loss was fierce, unforgiving, dangerous to those who would hurt. And Alina was all of those and more.

After two hundred years she spoke to Baghra once more, visiting the woman’s hut with Feyden tucked close to her as he always was. She stepped into the stifling heat and shut the door quickly, before the woman could complain about the cold.

“Finally thought it prudent to know who it is that’s teaching your Grisha, hm?” Baghra shot a look at the boy held close to her. “How is the child?”

“He’s fine enough,” she responded. “And I know enough about you, Baghra. I knew that you would teach the Grisha well.”

“My son has told me about you.” The woman leaned forward to add some wood to the roaring fire. “Or he’s told me some about you, at least. He told me that you knew about our heritage, our stories. Is that true?”

Alina nodded. “It is. I’ve been living the same life, starting at the same time, for hundreds of years now. Every time I die I am told to start over again, and I start back at the age of about seventeen once again. I’ve learned a lot about both you and Aleksander.”

Baghra hummed, staring at her and her son. “He’s going to be a powerful Grisha, you know.”

“I know.” Alina smiled, and she ached, but it wasn’t so bad. “I know that it’s not likely that he will be a Sun Summoner, or that he’ll even be as powerful enough to live longer than most. But a mother can hope.”

“Of course.” Baghra’s lips almost twitched up into a smile. “A mother always hopes.”

Alina nodded once more, and the two of them talked for a while. Everything from Grisha theory to the showing of her other abilities, to the mothering of small children - though many things had been forgotten by Baghra, after so long. It was the most peaceful that she had felt with the ancient Grisha woman, being able to simply sit and converse with each other. But eventually, she had to return to the palace and her duties as a Queen.

“I taught him that love was useless,” Baghra said, before she left. “But perhaps I took it too far.”

“I’m intent on changing that in him,” Alina murmured. “I have to.”

The woman nodded, and the flickering of the flames made her look just as ancient as she should be for a moment. “Make sure you do.”

It was as close to a ‘please’ from Baghra as she would get.

~~~

Feyden grew, and Alina wasn’t so careful with him now. Finally, she gave him over to the care of the nurses who had once chased after energetic Ana, and she allowed herself to return to Nikolai and Aleksander more fully.

“He’ll be alright, lovely,” Nikolai murmured into her ear, his skin sticky with sweat from his sparring as he held her close. “Feyden is stronger now than he was when he was born, his nurses will be just fine taking care of him.”

She tilted her head onto his shoulder with a sigh as Aleksander’s lips brushed down the center of her chest. “I know, I just… worry.”

“Enough talk of the boy,” Aleksander growled. “This isn’t the time for talk of children. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

And Alina puffed a quiet laugh, hand reaching up to sift through his hair. “Watch your tongue,  _ Tenot. _ I will speak of my son when I wish to.”

In return, he frowned - pouted, really - and pressed his face into her chest, arms wrapping around her, threading between her and Nikolai. He had no rebuke to her commands, so he stayed silent and sulked very much like a moody child. The thought made her laugh, slinging an arm and a leg over him to pull him closer against her, allowing him the room to press himself as firmly against her as he could get.

Aleksander was always the clingier of the two, though if asked directly he always pointed out the way Nikolai always seemed to be required to be hanging off his wife. And yet the way he always squirmed closer in bed, the way he got quietly agitated after going too long without some sort of touch spoke otherwise. She’d even seen him starting to exhibit the same sort of habits with Nikolai as his subject, though it was only a moment at a time at most.

A lingering stare here, a moment of hovering too close there, and slowly Aleksander was starting to open up to his King as well.

Incandescent happiness.

She pressed kisses to his hair, felt Nikolai pepper the nape of her neck with his own. “Don’t be so upset, Aleksander. As I said, I’m simply worried about Feyden. I know he’ll be fine, but after so long…”

The Grisha hummed against her skin in acquiescence and turned his head to press his ear against her chest. To listen to her heartbeat, to listen to her breath in her lungs. “If he’s not just as healthy as he was the last time you saw him, I’ll cut those useless nurses down myself.”

“I doubt that will be necessary,” Alina said with a small smile. It was Aleksander’s love, in his own way. It was growth, at the very least. Protectiveness over someone who wasn’t simply another pawn in the Darkling’s games.

“You never know, maybe he’ll suddenly start being a problem child in a different way in the morning.” Nikolai chuckled quietly. “I think we’d all prefer that.”

“Definitely,” she murmured.

And once more, Aleksander simply hummed and stayed put, silent and slowly getting comfortable. He was sleeping for longer now, at least, sometimes even long enough for Alina to wake up shortly after him and be able to cling to him a bit longer in the mornings before he insisted on leaving the bed. Maybe someday she would even get a morning or two when both him and Nikolai would stay with her in the morning for an hour or so. They were both horribly active in the mornings.

But she had many hopes for the future, some more important than others. Maybe someday Aleksander would be the one in between her and Nikolai. Maybe someday she would get to see him warm up to her husband properly, the three of them finally becoming as close to a family as she would get.

“Sleep, Alina,” Aleksander spoke against her skin. “There’s no reason for your anxiety.”

She sighed. “Yes, yes…” But she kissed his hair, did her best to push away her thoughts, and closed her eyes.

~~~

Feyden grew, his first wobbly steps coming later than most children. Alina was ecstatic, though, and she scooped him up with a laugh before either Nikolai or Aleksander could even think of reaching him.

Nikolai was the one to be worried about his child’s new mobility, the one to fuss over Feyden when he fell down, but Alina had been a mother before. She knew that now, her son would be fine. His body was strong enough to carry itself, and he would live.

And he did. He lived through every day with curious eyes, curious questions. His words stumbled sometimes, and he got frustrated when he couldn’t make his mouth move properly, but he was a normal child.

As her belly swelled with another child, she read him books or told him stories - sometimes they were of Saints long dead, sometimes they were of her own past lives, told under different names. He soaked all of them up, always more understanding than she thought. He’d certainly inherited his father’s mind.

When her daughter came, she laughed.

Dark hair, almost the black of her father’s, and striking blue eyes. This time Alina welcomed the sound of her child’s screaming cries just after the birth, rocked the girl slowly until she fed her from her breast. And Aleksander’s hands shook as he leaned against her.

“Any ideas for a name?” Her voice was a whisper, hoarse after her own pain of giving birth.

Aleksander looked up at her, eyes wide as if her question was unexpected. Nikolai chuckled on her other side.

“I mean, I have one in mind if our Darkling doesn’t,” he said smoothly.

Alina smiled. “Let him think, Nikolai. She’s hers, after all.”

The King opened his mouth as if to deliver a retort, but then paused. He must have realized that there was an importance in this, for Aleksander to have a child of his own. It might have been expected for Nikolai to have a child, for him to continue on his lineage, but for someone as ancient as the Darkling, who might have once tried to have his own child… this was monumental, earth-shattering.

“Evelin,” he finally whispered. “Evelin?” His eyes then turned up to Alina’s, as if he was asking permission.

Alina nodded with a smile, leaning over just slightly to kiss him. “Evelin it is.”

He breathed a sigh of almost relief, returned the kiss with a tenderness that wasn’t lost on her. And Nikolai pressed close to her side, staring down to the little girl clutched close to her mother’s body.

“Hello, little Evelin,” he murmured with a smirk that told of a hesitant yet unconditional love. “Happy birthday to you.”

Alina smiled, her head bumping Nikolai’s shoulder. “Are you going to start singing or something?”

“Ah, no, not unless you want me to.” He ran a hand through his wife’s hair. “But a little congratulations to the birthday girl is in order, I thought.”

“Of course.” She knew of Nikolai’s hesitance, the fear behind him of this child being put under the scrutiny of the court when her father was not the King. He didn’t want her to go through the same pain he had not so long ago, when people questioned his legitimacy. It was something to talk about, but not now. For now she was tired and honestly, she felt rather gross and she was hurting quite a lot despite the way she glowed with pride and happiness.

So she closed her eyes, allowed herself to rest. Nurses and Healers would take care of her and Evelin once she fell asleep, she knew. For now, for now…

In her dreams, she wondered what kind of Grisha her daughter would be. If she would inherit her own light, or the shadows of her father - or would such earth-shattering power between them create something new, something even more unique than what they each had? Or maybe she would simply pick up one of the many abilities that Alina had learned, grow with her father in the ranks of the Grisha.

Any way it might come, Alina was happy. Only time would tell how long it was until she lost her children, but she was determined to keep them safe. No one would lay a hand on them, for as long as she would live.

~~~

“Nikolai…”

“I’m just worried, Alina.” He set his head on her shoulder, hands smoothing over her sides. Evelin slept in a crib by the bed, the Queen too used to having to watch over Feyden to let her be taken care of by nurses so soon. “I don’t want her to just be a bastard child, I don’t want her to have to deal with all the rumors and the judgement.”

“Anyone who judges my daughter will answer to me,” Alina said fiercely. She took her husband’s chin into her hand, turning his face to hers. “She is the Queen’s daughter, and they will learn to respect that.”

“But what if she comes into power?” Nikolai’s fingers clenched into her shirt, and she could see the desperately worried look in his eyes. “Something like what happened to me. What if one day she has to lead, to rule? I can’t-”

“If that happens, then I will be by her side to help her.” Her voice was firm even as her heart ached to admit it. But it was true, Alina knew that she wasn’t going anywhere. Not for many years, many centuries. Centuries in which Nikolai would fade away into nothing but a memory, and while Feyden would likely fade as well, Evelin and Alina and Aleksander would last. They would last until the final days of the world. “Me and Aleksander both, Nikolai. I  _ promise. _ I promise.”

Nikolai must have realized as well, because he met her eyes and put his hands on her cheeks. He rested his forehead against hers, lips meeting for fleeting moments at a time with a shakiness that shouldn’t belong to her King. But he drew closer, precious moments that they took together like they were fading through their fingers.

In his eyes questions were reflected to her.  _ What will you do when I’m gone? Who will you be without me? Will you remember me? Will you still love me after? _

“I love you.” It was murmured in the space between them, by one or both she didn’t know, didn’t know who moved first, who pulled who closer. Closer, until they were wrapped up too tightly together to be separated.

And Alina realized, after everything, that Nikolai had been the only one that she had never truly been without. He was her King, touching all her many lives with legends of Sturmhond, with murmurs against the bastard prince, with laws sent out to protect the Grisha further. Where Mal could disappear in the ranks of all the trackers of the military, where Aleksander had to be wrought out of the shadowed steel that was his title of the Darkling, Nikolai was there. Always.

~~~

Eventually, the world started to recognize the danger that was the new Ravkan Queen. Though she was Queen, and therefore should be protected, her husband allowed her to go to the site of brewing battles. She brought armies down to their knees, decimated forces that would have cost the country hundreds of lives.

Fjerda was the main target of this. Drüskelle forces were only found within the country a couple of times, headed for Os Alta, before they learned better than to challenge the Blood Queen without a solid plan.

They only got within the walls once, and the people of the city got to see the terror she could cause.

Men dropped with faint pops as bones broke with the muscles of their bodies tearing themselves apart, screaming in agony to break the silence that they had hidden in. Weapons were thrown, only to be swept aside with great gusts of wind, and in the end a spectacle had been made as she burned them with Inferni fire, still alive and unable to move.

No one had spoken much until the men’s bones had burned to ash, leaving her standing in a halo of light that didn’t seem to be so peacefully warm anymore.

They’d all heard of who the Queen was before - Sol, the Darkling’s Heartrender.  _ Dayshuin Krov, _ Bloodletter. But no one had seen her ruthlessness outside of battlefields, never before in the quietest streets of Os Alta, never so close to the palaces.

Aleksander, the Darkling, was proud. Nikolai was too, though he was worried about what it would do to the public’s opinion on her after such a cruel display. And yes, people were scared of their Queen now. But they also still looked to her as a source of peace, of power and hope. She had closed the Fold, after all, reunited a fractured country and remained faithful. Mothers of the people told others that they would have done the same, if their children had been threatened, if they had that sort of power.

The three of them remained ready for unease though, just in case.

~~~

Alina almost forgot about the extra threat to her family that would come, until Feyden pulled a breeze through his mother’s sitting room with a quiet giggle before climbing into her lap.

“Mama, did you feel that?”

She held him close, her little boy that looked so proud of himself, four years old and just as strong as he should be. “I did. That was some good wind, Feyden, your father must be very proud.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to help with the Kingfisher one day?” His hands clenched into fists and he stared up at her, starstruck with his own idea. “I wanna fly you and Papa and Father all the way to Os Kervos!”

Alina laughed. “Someday you can. But for now, you have a lot of learning to do, hm?”

He nodded quickly, wiggling in his seat on her lap. “I wanna start learning now!”

“Oh you do, do you?” She smiled at him, thinking. She could teach him herself, technically - but her handle on the other Grisha abilities were loose, not quite what it was like for most. She’d learned to approximate her teacher’s explanations into something that would work for her, which often included using her light in some form at first. Maybe she could send him to Wietry, if she could find the man again… that would be quite the mix of personalities, between the hyperactive Squaller and her generally quiet son.

Unless he had finally been taken by the Fjerdans. It was rare that she could find her teacher after he had taught her all he could and she was forced to move on. Wietry had always been rather mobile, living along Ravka’s northern border with an odd insistence to stay connected to his homeland despite the constant threat it put his life under.

It made her think of the Fjerdans, the wind he conjured only stoking the flames that he burned on. Of Feyden being the one there, on the top of the pyre.

What would happen if they got into the palace, got to her children?

She would tear down the Ice Palace herself. She’d stop the heart of every single soldier that confronted her, she’d burn the world down around her in revenge.

Alina pressed a kiss to Feyden’s head, ushered him off her lap. “Come on, let’s go find your father.” And she held his hand, walking slowly to allow for his small legs, to go find Nikolai.

Luckily, he was with Aleksander already.

“Ah, there’s my sweet Queen,” Nikolai called, a book in his hands as he grinned. “And Feyden, how are you?”

The boy raised his hands, and the pages in the King’s hands fluttered. “I’m windy!”

Aleksander’s eyes met Alina’s, and she saw the same turmoil in his eyes. Nikolai laughed, set his book aside and scooped his son into his arms with a light in his expression that glowed with happiness. But there were shadows there, too, and she knew that there would be talks happening later on. For now they could be happy and sweetly amused, but soon something would have to be done about her son’s power.

She wouldn’t suppress it - never, ever would she do that, remembering all the lives she had started sickly and weak - but she couldn’t bear for her children to be caught by the druskelle.

Aleksander came closer, taking her hand, and an acknowledgement passed between them.

_ I’m scared, _ said the fear pressing through her like sluggish waves.

_ I know, _ his own fear tangled into hers but it dragged hers down, kept it from exploding. As much fear as he felt for the boy who called him Father, there was a weight of assurance that acted as string tied to a balloon. He believed in her, in her abilities, to keep him safe.

“You wanna help run the Kingfisher, huh?” Nikolai grinned, ruffled Feyden’s hair. “Eventually you will, I promise. Maybe you can get Zoya to teach you.”

“Zoya doesn’t like me, though,” Feyden responded with a pout. “She always calls me mean things.”

“It’s not that she doesn’t like you, Feyda,” Alina said with her own smile.

Nikolai chuckled. “Yeah, that’s just her way of talking to people. She’s never had very good manners, unlike you, huh?”

Even Aleksander chuckled, as Feyden shrugged and went on to tell a story about his day, something about kittens living in the castle. Alina leaned her head on his shoulder, let out a sigh, and forced herself to release her fear.

In this moment, they were alright. They were a family.

~~~

Evelin was three when she came screaming down the hall, chased by Feyden who raised his hands and tousled her hair from a distance. She shrieked at the wind, laughed as she ran, until she tripped and the hallway went black.

Alina paused when she heard her daughter crying, when she heard Feyden shout in surprise.

And when she stepped out the door and was greeted by darkness, she dispelled it with a single soft pulse of light, showing the two children alone. No Aleksander to be seen. Evelin’s wide eyes stared up at her, tears slipping down her face.

“Mama…”

Then she was being swept up, held close. Alina pressed her nose to her daughter’s hair, rocking her slowly. “It’s okay, Evelin. It’s alright, there’s nothing wrong, you just surprised yourself, didn’t you?”

But her daughter was busy crying, and as Feyden unfroze himself he ran a hand through his blonde waves, frowning nervously. “Does that mean… that was her? She’s a Shadow Summoner too?”

Alina nodded, and smiled. Leave it to him, Feyden who was barely six years old, to figure it out so quickly. “I think your Father will be rather interested to hear, hm?”

Feyden nodded slowly. “Yeah…”

“Why don’t you go fetch him? I’m going to be in the library, we’ll see if we can get Evelin to settle.” And she bounced her daughter a little as he ran off with the boundless energy of a child, turning her head to press a kiss to dark hair. “You’re okay, Evelin. Do you want to go read something in the library?”

Evelin sniffled, nodding as she raised her head and rubbed at her eyes. “That was scary, Mama…”

“I know. With things like ours, it’s always scary the first time you summon without meaning to.” She smiled, bounced her again to hear the little girl laugh. “But don’t worry, your father will teach you how to control it, alright?”

“Okay…” She still sounded hesitant, almost dazed, but she always sounded like that after crying. Nikolai joked that it would make her a good decision maker, saying that she wouldn’t just make a choice when she was over-emotional. “Mama, why did I…?”

“You probably just got surprised. You fell, right? Sometimes falling can scare our bodies into trying to keep us safe, and we summon on accident.”

“Oh…”

Alina smiled a little, waving a servant aside for just a moment as they got to the library to get some treats brought along. Just little things to make sure that she could get her daughter to calm down and forget her summoning accident.

This meant that Evelin would definitely be more at risk for attacks, once word of the darkness that she conjured spread. And in such a public place as the palace halls…

She held the small girl until their snacks came along. And then she let her slip from her lap as the girl moved for the small cookies on the plate. Alina poured a cup of tea for herself and Aleksander, adding a couple extra scoops of sugar to his as she usually did.

When he came in, his eyes instantly strayed to Evelin. She beamed, her scare sufficiently fixed with a good helping of sugar and crumbs around her lips. And then she ran to him, all toddling steps and arms outstretched towards him. He scooped her up out of habit, setting her on his hip as he made his way to the seats Alina had pulled together.

“So what is this about? Wanted to have tea and cookies together?” His smile was soft, and Alina melted when she remembered how harsh he had once been.

But she shook her head. “Not quite. Evelin here has finally shown her summoning abilities.”

He went carefully still, holding his breath. “And?”

“She’s a Shadow Summoner.”

For a moment it seemed as if the air had been punched out of his lungs, and he went very, very still. Until Evelin squirmed in his arms, pouting in concern. “Dada?”

And then he was back, and he squeezed her small body just a little. “Sorry, Eve. Just lost in thought. You’re sure, Alina?”

“Of course. She scared herself with it, I came out into the hallway and it was blacker than night.” She stood, came to him and put her arms around both of them. “I thought that you would want to know.”

He nodded, pressed a kiss to Alina’s head. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“So what are we going to do?”

“I suppose I could have her train with Baghra…”

“Baghra is mean, though!” Evelin almost shouted the words, twisting in her father’s grasp. “I don’t wanna!”

Aleksander chuckled and let the girl down. “We’ll work something out, Eve. You’re a bit too young to be training right now, anyway.”

“But what about Feyden?”

“Feyden is three years older than you, Evelin,” Alina pointed out with a smile. “Once you get old enough you’ll start too, and you can decide who to train with.”

She nodded seriously, and Alina just about keeled over at the sight. So adorable. And then she took a cookie from the plate and offered it up to Aleksander. “Wanna?”

He laughed quietly and took the cookie, and sat down to spend the afternoon with the two of them.

~~~

Both Feyden and Evelin grew up strong. The Grisha instructors made certain that Feyden’s Squaller abilities were harnessed properly, and he turned from a quietly curious child into a teen with a quiet temper and a quick mind. And Aleksander taught his daughter, finding that her abilities weren’t too far from challenging his own even at a young age, inheriting some of power that Alina had built up over her many lifetimes. But though she had raw power, she didn’t have the skill and finesse needed to control it well.

By the time Feyden was sixteen, he was showing the same amazing ability to lead that his father had.

And Evelin, at thirteen, was beginning to use the Cut. She was fearless, as inventive as Nikolai and as cunning as Aleksander.

Alina was proud beyond belief.

As a mother, and as a lover when Aleksander finally opened up to Nikolai.

It was certainly a surprise to find Aleksander in the bedroom they shared, curled up against Nikolai like a cat bathing in the sun as he soaked up the offered body heat. When Alina had walked in she raised an eyebrow and almost teased the two of them, before thinking better of it and joining the two of them. She sidled up to Aleksander’s other side, felt him shiver in delight and shift just slightly before stilling again.

Completely asleep, finally relaxed enough with someone other than Alina to be so exposed.

Years went on, and sometimes it was painful to see the way that Nikolai aged. It wasn’t as if he looked any less handsome - he’d outshine most Grisha even still - but it served as a constant reminder that someday, she would have to leave him behind. She would have to leave Nikolai, her one and only constant over all the long years and lives that she had lived.

She hated that. She knew that she would have Aleksander, probably Evelin, maybe Feyden - but Nikolai, she would have to leave behind.

Sometimes she caught slate-grey eyes and she saw the same thought behind them.

But she lived on, without fear, knowing that some things were inevitable. And if needed, maybe someday she would come back and do all of this again. But she was insistent that this would be her last life, her last chance to come and do these things before she finally passed on.

~~~

Her mind was occupied by so many things, she almost missed when it happened.

She heard the beginnings of a shout and stiffened as it was cut off.

_ Danger, _ her instincts screamed.

She had learned to trust her instincts. So she rose from her seat and rushed down to the courtyard. There she saw just a flash of Aleksander raising his arms, and his hands came together with a boom as the world went black.

So Sol worked in the dark, and men crumpled to their knees with shouts of alarm. Aleksander’s summoning faded once she had them restrained, and she glanced around. It was a large group of men, dressed plainly for the most part. Some clothing seemed expensive, too expensive to be worn outside of the palace. Assassins dressed as dignitaries from other countries? There were Shu and Fjerdians both, some with dark Zemeni skin. Men from all over had come to attack, but why?

“Who did you come for?” Her voice cracked like a whip. “Tell me.”

“She’s the witch,” one man spat in Fjerdan.

So she replied in the same, the fluent Fjerdan that she had picked up in her past lives. “A witch that can understand a dozen languages and more. Now speak, or I will find other ways to loosen your tongues.”

Aleksander watched her carefully. He’d seen Sol in work, he’d seen Alina defend her children with twice as much vicious fervor. Likely making sure that she didn’t go too overboard.

But the men now went silent, glancing at each other. Sol’s stomach coiled - something was wrong. They knew. They  _ knew _ that she would come out and fight, so why come here in the first place?

Her heart started to pound. She felt dizzy as fear washed over her, bitter like bile coating her tongue.

“Kill them,” she growled to Aleksander, before beginning to run towards the Little Palace.

He stared after her for just a moment, but she heard the booming sound of the Cut and knew that he would spare none of them, as ordered by his commanding officer. Alina ran, and she made her own heart pump the way she wanted to, maximizing her own usefulness as her body tried to flag.

She kept up a sprint all the way to the Little Palace, knowing that Aleksander would be just a few steps behind.

Where were the children supposed to be this time of day?

Evelin, with Baghra for the evening. She trusted the ancient Grisha to protect her granddaughter. And Feyden was supposed to be doing training exercises with the other Squallers, learning how to control some new invention of Nikolai’s.

Shouting reached her ears before she reached the Little Palace and Sol allowed her rage to fuel her.

When she reached the gates of the palace she tugged them open, just to dodge a sword that appeared in the gap.

Her hand came up, clenched around the heart of the man there. He crumbled, coughing blood. And light flooded through her, whatever battle that went on inside disappearing into stillness as she made man after man drop to the floor with various amounts of damage.

Zoya looked up at her, a fiery light in her eyes. “Moi tsaritsa,” she said.

“Where is Feyden, Zoya?” Sol’s voice was a growl as she stalked through the palace.

“I sent him out to the school with Ivan.”

“Alone?”

“Again, Ivan was with him.”

She growled, turned away. “Get the bodies cleaned up. I left a couple alive - make sure they won’t move when they wake.”

“Da, moi tsaritsa.”

And so Sol made her way out to the school. There were a few men trying to slip through the trees between the Little Palace and her new destination, but they went down with their eyes crying blood.

She hadn’t caused such bloodshed in many years - she couldn’t say that it felt good to kill, but it was enjoyable enough to use her abilities again to such an extent. She was powerful, she was worthy of fear. The fact that there were so many men sent to face her was an attestment to that, though this was nothing compared to her campaigns in the past still.

When she got to the school, she found a few children dead, and her blood boiled to a new height.

And when she found Feyden, Ivan was unconscious on the floor, and a knife was at her boy’s throat.

The only woman that she had seen in this attack held her son. “There you are, Queen Sol.”

Sol smiled sardonically back at her. “And you are?”

“My name isn’t important right now.”

“I beg to differ. I want to know who it is that dares threaten my son.”

The woman chuckled. “Oh, but I don’t think that his boy is  _ yours. _ He belongs to all people.”

Sol narrowed her eyes. “I suggest that you watch your tongue.”

“I see no reason to.”

“Then I have no reason to continue to listen to this ridiculous speech.” Her hand flicked, and the woman’s arm broke with a sick crack.

The woman screamed, fell to the ground with a sob. But then the knife switched hands, and it stabbed up into Ferden’s back.

She was dead in seconds after that, as Alina lunged for her wounded son. The rest of the people in the room followed their leader’s fate closely, before she laid Feyden over her lap with shaking hands.

He was crying, she knew, but all she could do was focus on his blood and the way that it was flowing. The knife had cut deep, she didn’t have much time to work.

Alina sang a gentle lullaby while she slowed his heartbeat, making his blood flow a little slower. It stopped gushing, at least. And her fingers ran over the cut that had been left, as she closed her eyes and felt it heal. From the inside out, repairing tissue and muscle and finally skin, and tears dripped down her cheeks even as her lips continued to mumble a song.

When hands dropped onto her shoulders, she almost turned and split the person down the middle.

But when she turned, she found Aleksander and Nikolai kneeling before her, eyes wide and worried. Around them they found blood, her hands stained with it, their son laid down over her with tears in her eyes.

“He’s  _ mine,” _ she said fiercely. “He’s mine.”

Aleksander ran a hand through the sleeping boy’s hair, eyes serious now. “What happened, Alina?”

She shook her head. “They came for him, I’m sure. Have you checked with Evelin?”

“She’s safe with Baghra. I left a couple of oprichniki with them just in case.”

Alina nodded, leaned against Nikolai as he shuffled around to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Good… that woman, she said that he belonged to all people. I don’t understand what she could have meant, Feyden…”

Nikolai sighed. “Claiming the crowned prince for the people,  _ literally. _ I’ve only heard of it happening a couple times in history.”

“What?”

“It’s because it’s rare for the crown prince or princess to not have a defined heritage.” Aleksander answered for him. “Sometimes people attempt to claim the firstborn of the crowned rulers, take them into the common folk’s state of living. Sometimes it’s because they’re angry that a spouse from the common people was taken to rule, sometimes it’s because they want their next ruler to know where their parent came from. Technically it’s legal if they go through the King and Queen and ask for permission, but Ravka has never had it actually work out that way before, so most of the time it turns into an attempted abduction.”

Alina frowned, leaned her head into Nikolai’s hand as he ran it through her hair. “That’s idiotic. They must have known that I wasn’t going to let them take him, even with a fight.”

Aleksander only nodded. “Can you wake him up now? Did you heal him enough?”

“I did, but I think I’ll let him wake up naturally… I think I need to wake Ivan up though, I want to know what he heard.”

~~~

Nothing. That’s what Ivan knew. The man had been knocked unconscious the moment he walked into the room, before he even had the chance to realize that there were more dangers in the school.

Idiot.

But Feyden had… changed, after that. Alina worried.

“Mama…”

She looked up. “Yes, Feyden? What is it?”

“Where did you actually come from?” His green eyes looked at her from under his bangs, his hair turning darker - now more brown than blonde, more like Alina’s own hair. “Everybody in the Little Palace tells stories about how you just appeared in Kribirsk dressed in furs and making everybody’s knees buckle with your power, but… before, where did you live?”

Alina smiled, though it was strained with the weight of centuries. “That’s… quite a large question, honestly. Bigger than you think, Feyden. But I’ll tell you something, and you have to promise to keep it a secret, alright?”

His head tilted, curious. But he nodded slowly. “Alright. What is it?”

“I came from Keramzin,” she murmured. Watched his eyebrows scrunch together with a smile. “Surprising, I know. I wish that you could meet my best friend, but…” A sigh, remembering Mal with a pang, the one who died on the Fold never knowing what Alina was capable of. “Well, he passed away many years ago.”

“Keramzin? The orphanage that one Duke used to run?”

She laughed quietly, nodding. “The one and only.”

“But everybody says that you were from the mountains in the east!”

“Keep your voice down,” she said with a chuckle. “But yes, that is what I told them when I came to the Grisha in Kribirsk.”

“Then… why did you lie?”

“How much do you know about the Darkling?” She smiled at him. “Your father was a very dangerous man, before I came around and knocked him off his high horse. I couldn’t let him see any of my weaknesses, not even the place that I had grown up in, or he would have used those things against me. So I hid everything about myself - my old home, my friends, my personality, even my name.”

“So is your name… not Queen Sol?”

Alina shook her head. “No. Only your fathers know my true name, and… well, I will tell you eventually. Soon, possibly. But for now, I need you to keep these things a secret for me.”

Feyden nodded vehemently. “Of course, mama.”

~~~

Slowly, she told him her story. The complete version of it.

And Feyden grew into a man, filled with a quiet fire and drive that took many people off guard. His wit was known very well in both the Grand and the Little Palace, the way he struck back verbally in ways that were unexpectedly cutting.

Evelin grew cold, though she smiled and stayed just as warm with her family as ever. She had precious few friends, she learned how to pick a person apart with her observations, she learned how to be deadly.

“Mama, why do you seem to be so old in some moments? Why haven’t you and Father aged with Papa?” She asked Alina one day, a book in her lap that had been long forgotten.

Alina had already explained this to her brother once. She was sure that her heart couldn’t handle another round of it, but she couldn’t lie to her daughter. Not even if she wanted to, really. Evelin had learned how to tell when she was lying, somehow.

“Because we are very powerful Grisha,” she murmured. “Grisha live longer lives than normal people anyway, but we… we will live much, much longer. Maybe forever, in fact, if we are not killed.”

Evelin frowned. “But then that means…”

“Someday we will leave your papa behind, yes.” Alina looked down at her hands. “And maybe Feyden as well, though I desperately do not want to.”

“And me?”

Alina glanced up at her daughter, taking in her black hair, her striking blue eyes. “No, I don’t think that we’ll be leaving you behind, my darling. You are the daughter of the two most powerful Grisha in this world, which means that you have both of our potential power. I can’t confirm anything yet but… no, I don’t think that you will pass on so naturally either.”

Evelin was silent for several moments. Those moments almost stretched to minutes before she spoke again. “I don’t want to live that long,” she stated, sounding hurt.

“I know.” Alina sighed. “I didn’t either. I was terrified of such a thing, but Evelin… give it time. You will learn, and you won’t be alone. I promise, you will never have to be alone.”

She watched as her daughter’s eyes filled with tears. “Mama…”

“I know. Come here.”

Though Evelin was nearly twenty now, she curled against her mother and cried. And Alina held her close, closer, her heart aching with hurt.

~~~

Someday she did say goodbye to Nikolai. Feyden took the throne, and Alina stepped away. They all wept over the loss of Ravka’s first truly great king, and there were many silent nights between her and Aleksander where neither of them could really find the will to move. There was an empty spot in their bed now, and it hurt to be there.

But they moved back into the Darkling’s traditional rooms in the Little Palace, which had been carefully maintained. Evelin stayed in the Grand Palace, working with her brother to take care of the country.

Alina and Aleksander did not rule now, but they did not disappear. Sol still lived and served as the leader of the Grisha, but now oddly enough she served her son. Not that the new King Feyden felt like he could actually give her orders - he more gave her suggestions. It became their joke, in a way, seeing how serious his ‘suggestions’ could be. Sometimes he reminded her of Nikolai when he was still young, still the captain Sturmhond that had passed into legend.

Those moments ached, but as Feyden grew older it became a sweeter ache, more melancholy than the crashing waves of grief that had ruined her before.

Feyden met a woman and married, and eventually had children. Ivan, Gillan, Tasha, all wonderful and healthy children. Gillan was the only non-Grisha child, and yet he grew to be the best soldier out of all of them.

And Alina and Aleksander stayed. They loved each other even in Nikolai’s absence, they found ways to cope with the hole at their side. But still, Sol didn’t disappear. Sol, the Blood Queen that had fought her way up the ranks. Already her name seemed legendary, when people met her they were shocked to find thick brown locks of hair and smooth skin, a young face instead of the old woman they expected.

Sol Koroleva was an old title for her, but occasionally now she heard it mumbled in the streets when she hid herself in the crowds to listen for news.

She watched over her family, protected Feyden and her grandchildren from the few attacks that came. She knew that it was going to be something that she would do forever onwards. She would make sure that Nikolai would live on in his children.

~~~

Generations passed, and Alina watched the world progress with Aleksander at her side, supporting her every step. It was the first time that she had finally chosen to continue on so far, after so many lives being afraid to lose sight of what was familiar.

After Feyden passed away, Evelin had disappeared from Os Alta. Despite what her gut told her to do, Alina let her daughter go, knowing that she was hurting. Evelin might have acted cold, but both her parents knew that the girl was still new to this kind of ache in her chest. Where Alina and Aleksander carried it like stones in their pockets, Evelin carried it like a boulder on her back.

Sometimes they would hear of a new Darkling being hailed in small pockets of Ravka, and those reports kept them breathing easy, knowing that she was alive and safe.

Eventually, Alina slipped away for a time as well. Sol fell away and was finally buried beside her husband. Free without the burden of her false name, Alina traveled to find her daughter once more and found her in a tavern, drinking with men twice her size and a grin on her face.

If only Aleksander knew what she was up to, she laughed. Evelin nearly choked on her drink to see Alina standing there.

“Hello, daughter,” she said with a small smile. The man to her left with his arm around her waist stiffened, glancing from mother to daughter. “It’s been a while.”

“I- Mama, what are you doing here?”

“Sol passed away,” she murmured, waving another man away to sit across the table from Evelin. “Did you not hear?”

“I… I didn’t.” She narrowed her eyes. “So what’s happening now?”

“Me and your father wanted to see you again.” Alina watched her glance around, searching for Aleksander’s form. “But he wasn’t able to make it, too busy with his work.”

“Her father? Isn’t her father the Darkling?” The man next to her spoke up, eyes narrowing at Alina.

She laughed. “You’re a smart one. What’s your name?”

“Hielen,” he introduced carefully. “So if you’re her mother, doesn’t that make you…?”

“My name is Alina.” She held out a hand politely. “I hope you’ve been taking care of Evelin properly, Hielen.”

“I thought her mother was Sol…”

“Call me an adoptive parent. Don’t concern yourself with it too much.” She didn’t bother trying to come up with a story, knowing whatever she said would have holes in it. “So how have you been doing, really?”

“I’ve been fine.” Evelin smiled at her. “How have you and Father been?”

“Well, you know your father. Ever concerned with work, still taking too many late nights, putting too much sugar in his food…”

Her daughter chuckled and nodded. “That sounds good, though.”

“It’s definitely not bad. It’s been… well, it’s at least been interesting, for me. I’m still learning how to Tailor people, and I want to say that I’m getting better but…” She cringed. The one thing that Alina was really having trouble with, and it was one Grisha ability that she had worked rather closely with before. It was kind of embarrassing, especially when Aleksander teased her for her work. Someday she would turn his hair white in retaliation.

Evelin grinned. “Mama, you’ve always been good at everything else anyways. I think that you can live with not being good at  _ one _ thing.”

Alina sighed. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just annoying, especially when your father keeps giving me trouble for it.”

“Are you asking me to come home and try to talk some sense into him?”

“If you would, that would be nice. He’s very rude to me when he gets to laughing.”

Evelin smiled at her. “Alright. I’ll come home soon, okay?”

~~~

When their daughter did come home, her belly was swollen with a growing child and Alina could tell that Aleksander was feeling… nervous. The way he seemed to hover around Evelin made her laugh, though she couldn’t deny that she was feeling her own sort of nervousness.

But when her daughter asked her to deliver the baby, there was no way that she was going to turn her down. Not when Alina was the best Healer she knew.

~~~

The child was named Luceria. She was born healthy and kicking as well as a newborn knew how, though Evelin was exhausted after the birth. Alina and Aleksander both stayed by her side for as long as they could, making sure that both of them were okay.

But eventually, Evelin recovered and she was off once again, back to the father. It wasn’t Hielen, Alina knew instinctively. But she let her daughter go regardless, trusting her.

~~~

Alina now served more as an assistant to Aleksander. Not many people ever knew who she was, though many theorized and called her a lover to the Darkling. It sparked a palace-wide controversy, after all the generations of Darklings apparently keeping his lovers in a secret place far from any civilization that would know him.

Both of them found it quite hilarious. And it didn’t keep them from each other in the slightest, as Ivan, son of Feyden ruled. And then a little girl named Sonya was born, and she became the next Queen after her father - then King Sol, after her.

Aleksander disappeared after a while. One Darkling died, and several years afterwards another came about. Alina died, and Tasya took her place by the Darkling’s side once again. Some whispered of a Shadow Summoner in the countryside once again, and they found Evelin surrounded by the family she had built. A family that their daughter would someday leave behind, though now she was ready to do so.

The three of them moved forever onwards.

~~~

Eventually, Alina finally broke her promise.

She went back to that valley where snow never fell and met Aiku once more, seeing him just as young as ever even after two hundred years and more.

The two of them talked, before Aiku patted her hand and called her a filthy liar, and Alina laughed to herself. That night she fell asleep in his bed with her fingers twisted into beautiful blonde hair, and the next morning she woke up to beautiful blue eyes.

When she went back to Aleksander, she kissed him breathless and settled down with him with a smile on her face, content. She was happy with the man that she had made herself familiar to, and she couldn’t ask for any more than that. Not when she was so happy here, with him, watching over the line that her and Nikolai had started.

~~~

Once, a rebellion caught hold.

But Queen Sol, a ghost of her, came back from the dead to stop it. A single child from her line was lost, but nothing more. The people of Ravka cowered in fear, then in awe as she carried the murdered child away into the forest, looking for all the world a Saint covered in blood.

Alina brought the child back from the brink of death - she could have used merzost, if she so wished, but no. She relied on her Grisha abilities, and several days later the child toddled back into the Grand Palace with tears in her eyes.

Sankta Sol.

And so Alina once more found her calling to her people, and she took the sick and injured children that she could from the edge of the woods once their parents had left. She healed what she could, helped where she couldn’t completely fix something, and sent the children back.

Aleksander watched her, and she could feel the confused ache in him.

Eventually Evelin came back, and once more the three of them lived as a family, and Alina felt the ache in Aleksander subside little by little.

She felt warm. Maybe someday she would be able to rest.

~~~

“I miss Papa still,” she murmured one day.

Alina leaned her head against her daughter’s. She had grown so strong. “I know. I do too, Eve.”

“I wish… I wish I could see him again, even just once more.” Evelin sighed, her stark blue eyes turning towards her mother. “I know we all miss him, but I feel like we… should have all kind of forgotten about him at this point.”

“You never forget the first things you had, Evelin.” Alina loosely ran her fingers through Evelin’s short hair, a recent cut that had the girl looking ever more masculin. It was a good look on her, she had to admit. “I don’t think any of us will ever forget Nikolai, and that’s alright. It might hurt, but remembering the good things from your father, from your brother - that’s the only thing that will make it better.”

It’s how she had dealt with Mal’s loss, at least. Remembering all the good things that she had seen from him.

Evelin nodded, leaned back into her hands with a sigh. “Do you still remember the first time I showed my summoning?”

Alina laughed. “Of course I do. When I came out into the hall I thought that Aleksander had scared you. But no, it was just a clumsy little girl that had scared herself by falling.”

“Pff. I wasn’t that clumsy.”

“You were just as clumsy as every other three year old out there, Eve.”

Her daughter rolled her eyes, and they stayed there until Aleksander got there. Then he sat on Evelin’s other side as she insisted on braiding his hair as it grew out. Alina got the feeling that he continued growing it out just so he could give both her and Evelin the excuse to play with it, though of course he swore up and down that it was to distinguish himself from his ‘past lives’. Even after all this time, he was still too proud to admit himself the weakness of wanting attention from his loved ones.

His relationship with Baghra had only further complicated, it felt like, though for the most part the old woman had softened. Aleksander just didn’t like talking to her, being reminded of what he had been before Alina had come around.

She knew the feeling.

But she loved him all the same, and Evelin could at least claim some amount of friendship with her grandmother despite all the family history.

~~~

Sometimes, days seemed to pass by in a blink. Sometimes months slipped through her fingers like water, and sometimes things seemed to drag on for ages longer than they should.

But Alina learned to deal with such things. Legends of Sankta Sol, mother of modern Ravka, remained strong. And she kept up her work. She kept up her work until the grove where sick children were left burned at the hand of a radical new church.

The man responsible fell in the eyes of the people, but the mystical forest perished and buildings were built over it.

The world moved on from the days of Saints, it moved on from the days of Grisha as their numbers started to dwindle.

Soon enough the Second Army fell apart, and the final Darkling died.

Only then did Alina finally leave Os Alta. And she left with Aleksander, leaving only Evelin who still clung to the remnants of her brother in the building that used to house young Grisha, and Baghra who still refused to leave her hut by the lake.

They traveled to Kerch, which had become a booming place of trade that outgrew its own borders. Floating bits of city dotted the water, buildings built upon massive barge ships and bridged by collapsable marvels of machinery. Floods and storms didn’t bother them, their size steadying them in the water.

There, Alina became a simple woman living with her husband. They hid their powers from everyone but each other, and if anyone happened to see a flash of light from the window in a moment of passion between the two, it was easily explained away by the new electric lights that had been made. Curious things, she had to admit. Harnessing lightning that had once been terrifying.

They lived, they worked, Alina grew old.

She felt ancient, even though Aleksander still had centuries of life more than her. The way she saw the world progress into something unforgiving added time and a half to her body, though he didn’t seem to carry it with the same weight as she did.

“I want to return home,” she whispered one day, laying half-curled over him with her fingers buried in his hair. “I want to see Evelin again.”

He had only nodded, brushed her hair behind her ear. “Alright. Then let’s go. We’ll get back to Ravka if it means that we have to use our summoning again.”

Alina had laughed lightly. “Saints, I almost wish I could. I’m out of practice with my Tidemaking, but what would people think? They’d call us abominations.”

“Not that it’s anything new,” he said with a smirk.

“True enough.” She had kissed him then, hands framing his face as her teeth tugged at his lips. “Saints, I hope that Evelin is safe.”

Aleksander slid a hand down her back, calming. “We haven’t heard of any odd areas of darkness popping up, so I think she’s alright for now.”

“Back to Ravka.”

“Of course.”

~~~

They hadn’t even been able to get out of Kerch before Evelin found them. And the girl - Alina sometimes lamented the fact that she couldn’t think of her daughter as a woman almost as old as herself - seemed shaky. Scared, uncertain.

“What happened?” Alina held her daughter’s hands, staring into those striking blue eyes of hers. “Evelin, did something happen to you?”

But she had simply shaken her head. “Mama… I don’t want to stay any longer.”

Her blood ran cold. “What do you mean, Eve?”

“I don’t want to- I don’t want to  _ live _ any longer. I’m old, five hundred years, and I just don’t want to anymore. I’m done.” Evelin laid her head on Alina’s shoulder with a shudder. “But I didn’t want to disappear on you and Father.”

Alina pulled her close, her head spinning. “Eve… are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ve thought about this a lot, I just… I’m tired, Mama. I’m lonely, I’ve never had another person to love like you and Father have loved for so long. It hurts to continue, but I can’t find much to live for anymore.”

So mother slumped against daughter, and together they cried shortly. Before Alina nodded, wiped away Evelin’s tears, and went to find Aleksander.

As a family, they decided.

And as a family, they traveled. One last round to see the world’s wonders, to see the massive buildings being constructed in Shu Han and the great telescopes being erected in Fjerda to pierce through the amazingly clear skies in the north.

Alina didn’t bother to hide her abilities now. She created gifts, made shows out of her power for whoever might be watching as she got her family from one destination to the next.

Oddly enough, they found a resurgence of Grisha power as they traveled. Grisha weren’t as dead as they had thought, though now they went under several different names. They were called magic users, devils, Saints, demigods. But so few people knew, when Grisha only seemed to appear in isolated civilizations.

They all laughed to themselves, as Alina taught what she could to those stray few. Something to pass onto the next generation, possibly. She wouldn’t be a leader again, only a passing teacher.

Once, they all visited Aiku. He seemed to remember her, though his little snowless valley had been encroached upon by southern settlements.

Someone had finally helped him in the way he had needed for so long, and his eyes were clear of the old torture that had run through them.

“Alina,” he greeted her with a smile and a forehead pressed to hers. “My filthy liar, is this your family?”

She could feel Aleksander stiffen slightly at their closeness, but smiled anyway. “Yes, it is. Aleksander, my husband, and my daughter Evelin.”

“A beautiful daughter, to be sure. Those eyes remind me of my sister.”

Alina chuckled. “Treat her as such. She’s just about your age.”

“Introduce me to your husband, would you? What happened to your old one?”

“He passed away centuries ago,” Aleksander said, a little snap to his voice.

But Alina took his hand before he could go any further. “Nikolai wasn’t Grisha. He didn’t make it past a normal human lifetime.”

“Ah. I apologize, I didn’t remember.” He nodded respectfully. “So what are you three here for?”

“A family vacation, you could say.” Alina smiled, took his arm in hers and led them all into the house that had apparently replaced his old one. “What have you been doing here all this time?”

“Been working as a masseuse,” he said with a proud, if not mischievous grin. “No one can beat my services, but I don’t charge too much.”

“Using your abilities in plain sight. Clever man.” Alina laughed. “We’re only going to be here for tonight, but I have things that I must talk to you about.”

“Do tell…”

~~~

As Alina said, they weren’t there long after she had told Aiku what she needed of him. She needed him to be a teacher for the budding Corporalki Grisha that were going to be coming, and he was the only teacher available to do such things.

Her heart felt heavy after leaving him, but at the same time she felt surprisingly light with Aleksander’s hand in hers when they walked away from that house afterwards. The knowledge that the next generation would have at least some sort of teacher soothed her nerves, left her more ready to let go and finally see if Aleksander had been saved by her efforts.

She was sure that he had. He’d grown so much, from being the Darkling to becoming her second husband. He had learned to love Nikolai, he had learned to love Feyden and Evelin both, and she was so proud of him. She was so happy that he could smile so easily now, when before it was a struggle to get him to let go at all.

She would find her rest with her family. And by all the Saints, all the gods of this world, she would find Nikolai and Feyden in whatever afterworld there was for her. She would hold her little boy again, hold the man that he had become.

~~~

They never really knew what happened to Baghra. Evelin had left her in Os Alta in a crumbling hut, and when they all went there as a family the woman was gone without any trace as to where she had gone.

~~~

Alina kissed Aleksander and Evelin’s cheeks before they all sat down together. One last breakfast before they did this, and she could feel the nervousness in the room. But Alina herself felt surprisingly calm.

“It will hurt, for a moment. But it won’t be any longer than that, it will happen and then be gone the next moment, I promise.” Alina held both of their hands. “Are… are you both ready?”

Evelin nodded solemnly, but Aleksander looked… scared, almost. Nervous, his eyes strained as he stared at her. He was the one that had held on after all these years, all these centuries. Not even Alina knew how long, not even after all this time.

But after a few moments as she felt his chest tighten with emotion, he nodded.

Alina took a breath. “Then go. You two first.”

Evelin held her father’s gaze. A haze of darkness, stark lines of black striking through her, and she slumped at the same time as her father. Brutal, but it left no marks on the body. Alina had never actually seen it happen with anyone else.

But she closed her eyes, and light blazed through her eyelids before she felt death reach for her one last time.

~~~

_ You are unbalanced. _

~~~

Alina burned the world as her eyes opened again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ........ look I didn't say who the eventual happy ending was for okay


	14. Epilogue - Not So Alone

Once again, Alina ran. This world was almost unfamiliar to her now, but she ran.

And she ran for lifetimes. Three, four, ten, twenty, and she stopped counting. Sometimes she restarted just because she was angry, lonely, wishing that the universe would allow her to rest.

But in the beginning of one, she knew she had been caught. Kids of Keramzin saw the light and wondered, and word must have moved quickly because it was no more than three days before an Inferni came to collect her, after following her trail from the orphanage apparently.

She cut him down and kept moving. Moving, moving, until she found a town to slow down in. And she was tired once more, angry still, but slowly she was coming to accept that this would be her world for the rest of eternity. She wouldn't rest until the end of time itself.

So she distantly attempted to make friends. It was hard after so long, after everything, but she managed. And then she found a child abandoned, and without a thought she took him in.

It was like lives she had millennia ago. Peaceful, slow.

Then he came.

"You're not supposed to be here."

"And why is that?" His voice was as cool as ever. The Darkling, the cruel man that her husband had become after his own ages spent alone and without love.

She sighed, and her heart ached. "Because this is too quiet of a town for the two of us to clash in."

"Who said that we need to clash?"

"I know what you plan to do. I won't have a hand in using the Fold."

A beat of silence, and then a chuckle from him, sounding so satisfied with himself. "So you were sent back as well?"

Alina went carefully still, and suddenly she wanted to scream. Her eyes stayed locked onto the fire, her throat tightening and tears threatening to break through her lifetimes of apathy. "How many times?" She forced out finally. How many times had he lived, was he anything like her?

"How many times have I reset? Just once. The last thing before this life that I remember is you, killing me with a bloody knife."

Her eyes shut. So young. Tears spilled down her cheeks, unchecked, and Alina allowed herself to break in the silent way that she had mastered.

Finally.

She wasn’t so alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway... this is the official end of His Savior. I'm going to be taking a little time off from writing to go on a job hunt once again. Thank you so much for everyone who has kept up with this fic of mine, and I hope that you guys will stick around until I can start getting the second part of this (and maybe some short stories?) out onto here.
> 
> If you guys want to see any specific short stories, please feel free to suggest stuff on my tumblr or just in the comments. I live to serve, so if you guys want to see anything in particular... plz. Don't hesitate to ask.


	15. Update - Unbalanced

Hello there, readers! This is just a little update chapter (a literal year after I promised a sequel, yes, I know, I'm sorry about that-) to let you know that I have finally started delivering on my promise. Unbalanced, the second part to His Savior, is finally up and running with the first chapter waiting to be read :D I'm hoping to make that fic just as satisfying as His Savior was, with hopefully similar update times, though I can't exactly promise anything with how things in my life are going.

Writing has been and remains the best form of self-therapy that I have, and so I am just hoping that I can deliver something good to you guys while everything is so hectic and stressful! 2020 has sucked royally for everyone that I know, but hey! Might as well put some good out while I can.

And once again I gotta give a huge thanks to all the people who have been commenting on this fic in the time that y'all have been waiting for the second part, you guys have really given me the will to continue on all this <3 :3

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream to me at @the-only-universe-here on tumblr. No one interacts with me and I crave the sweet, sweet dopamine release of someone liking my shit.


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